While he knelt on the floor, locking and strapping it, she gave a careful look at herself in the mirror, while putting on her hat. She congratulated herself that she had not been crying. Aside from the fact that she looked pale and tired, there was nothing in her face to suggest that she had had a crisis of the nerves: certainly no look of defeat for Gertie to gloat over. Would they all be there to witness her retreat? Well, let them: no one could say that she had not gone out with flying colors. She turned, with a smile to meet Frank's gaze.
"That's right," he said approvingly. "You look fine. Say," he added, "I'm afraid I'll have to have Reggie up to give me a lift with this trunk of yours. I don't know what you can have in it unless it's a stove, and we've got one at home already. It'll be all right once I get it on my back."
He had taken just the right tone. His easy reference to 'home' and to their common possession of even so humble a piece of furniture as a stove, as if they were an old married couple returning home after paying a visit, had a restorative effect on nerves still a little jangly. That was the only way to look at it: In a thoroughly commonplace manner. As he had said himself, it was a business undertaking. She gave a perfectly natural little laugh.
"No, I haven't a stove; only a few books. I didn't realize how heavy they were. I'm sorry."
"I'm not," he said heartily. "You can read to me evenings. I guess a little more book-learning'll polish me up a bit and I'll be right glad of the chance. You're not afraid to stand at the horses' heads, are you, while Reg runs up here?"
"No, of course not."
She could hear Gertie in the pantry as she crossed the living-room. She was grateful to her for not coming out to make any show of leave-taking. Having sent Reggie on his errand, she stood stroking the horses' soft noses while waiting for the men to return. Just as they reached the door, Eddie came slowly over to her from the barn. His face was haggard. He looked older than she had ever seen him.
"Nora," he said in a low tone, "I beg you, before it is too late——"
"Please, dear," she whispered, her hand on his, "you only make it harder."
"I'll write, Eddie, oh, in a few days, and tell you all about my new home," she called gayly, as Frank, having disposed of her trunk in the back of the wagon, lifted her in. Her brother turned without a word to the others and went into the house.