"'Nance!' the old man called out, 'here's Ed Hatch.'
"She didn't do any fancy stunts. She just straightened up and looked at me kind o' steady for a minute, and then came over to shake hands.
"'I'm glad to see you back, Ed,' she says."
The stress of this meeting was still over him, as I could see and hear, and I waited for him to go on.
"She hadn't changed as much as mother. She was older and sadder and kind o' subdued, and her hand felt calloused, but I'd 'a' known her anywhere. She was dressed in a blue calico dress, but she was sure handsome still, and I said to her:
"'You need a change of climate,' I says, 'and a different kind of boss. Colorado's where you ought to be,' I went on.
"For half an hour I kept banterin' her like that, and though she got pink now and then, she didn't seem to understand—or if she did she didn't let on. She stuck to her work whilst the old man and me watched her. Seein' her going about that kitchen that way got me locoed. I always liked to watch mother in the kitchen—and Nance was a genuine housekeeper, I always knew that.
"Finally I says:
"'I hain't got any buggy, Nance—the old man wouldn't let me have one last Sunday—I mean eleven years ago—that's what threw me off the track—but I've got a forty-horse-power car out here. Suppose you put on your best apron and take a ride with me.'
"She made some words as women will, but she got ready, and she did look handsomer than ever as she came out. She was excited, I could see that, but she was all there! No jugglin' or fussin'.