A Daughter of the Middle Border

How it begins

"Well, Mother," I said as I took my seat at the breakfast table the second day after our Thanksgiving dinner, "I must return to Chicago. I have some lectures to deliver and besides I must get back to my writing." She made no objection to my announcement but her eyes lost something of their happy light. "When will you come again?" she asked after a pause. "Almost any minute," I replied assuringly. "You must remember that I'm only a few hours away now. I can visit you often. I shall certainly come up for Christmas.