“Where is Mr. Porter?” Rose asked, looking around.
Lydia did not know she had any more tears left, but they started rolling down her cheeks again as she shook her head. Having been turned away by the only family she had in Chicago, Lydia expected no sympathy from a woman who had been decidedly cool toward her in the past. She was stunned but thankful when Rose sat down beside her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
“There, there, Miss Lydia. Cry it out,” Rose said. They sat there together clinging to each other for a good quarter of an hour. Finally Rose said, “He was as good a white man as I have ever known, and he loved you with all his heart. Few of us ever have that kind of love in our lives. You know, he came to me a few months back and apologized for treating me condesce
