Her hands stirred slightly, as they lay in her lap.
"That is underrating your friends," she said, slowly. "But"—altering her tone—"it is true, I have the children and Richard."
"Where is Richard?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"When you heard from him last," he began.
"He is a bad correspondent," she said.
"He always finds so much to fill his time when he is away. There is an understanding between us that he shall write very few letters. I am responsible for it myself, because I know it spoils everything for him when he has an unwritten letter on his conscience. I haven't heard from him first yet since he went West."
She arose from her seat on the step.
"I will go in now," she said. "I must speak to Mrs. Lucas about giving you a room, and then I will go to Janey. She is sleeping very well."
He arose, too, and stood below her, looking up.