"You will see her at the right time," said Mrs. Lowell. "You have a great deal to do for her first. Were you going upstairs to sleep? No doubt you are sleepy after all that mowing. It was very kind of you to do it for Veronica."
"I didn't do it for her." There was no stammering in the declaration. "She thought I did, but I didn't."
Mrs. Lowell smiled again and nodded. "I understand," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't know your mother. I believe she would like you to go outdoors with me now."
"You don't—don't need to—to have me. I'm—I'm all right."
Mrs. Lowell could see the wound throb.
"I know I don't need to. I should think you could see that I really want you."
He hesitated and looked away.
"Now," she went on, "I will go up to my room and get some cushions and my books and we will have a nice read or a nice snooze, and perhaps get some more stones for our collection. Perhaps you have some book you would like to bring."
"I haven't any books—except a paper one."
"Bring it," said Mrs. Lowell with interest. "I would like to see it. Let us meet down here in five minutes, then."