Tom rubbed his head. Gosh! It was no joke being the head of a family!
"Well, Ma, if you wish it, what's the odds? But I'm afraid it'll have to wait a bit. Jack'll tell you I haven't any cash. Not a stiver, Ma! Blown out! It takes it outter yer up North. We never struck it rich."
Mrs. Ellis, under her apron, wept softly.
"Poor little Lennie! Poor little Lennie! He's been so good, Tom, working day and night. And never spending a shilling. All his learning gone for nought, Tom, and him a little slave, at his years, old and wise enough to be his father, Tom. And he wants to get married. If we could start him out fair! The new place has only four rooms and an out-kitchen, and there's not enough to keep him, much less a lady wife. She's a lady earning her bread teaching. He could go to Grace's. Alec Rice would have him. But—"
She had taken her apron off her face, and was staring averted at the door leading into Gran's old room.
The two boys listened mystified and a little annoyed. Why all this about Lennie? Jack was wondering where Monica was. Why didn't she come? Why wasn't she mentioned? And why was Ma so absolutely downcast, on the afternoon of Tom's home-coming? It wasn't fair on Tom.
"Where is Monica?" asked Jack shyly at last.
But Mrs. Ellis only shook her head faintly and was mute, staring across at Gran's door.
"Lennie married!" Tom was brooding. "Y'll have to put it out of y'r mind for a bit, Ma. Why, it wouldn't hardly be decent."
"Let him marry if he's set on it—an' the girl's a good girl," said Mrs. Ellis, her eyes swamping with tears again, and her voice breaking as she rocked herself again.