It passed away, however, and through the gate of duty I found work, and left these thoughts.
When March came to us, father insisted that mother should go to Aunt Phebe's, if we could get along without her—she had a little hacking cough every spring, and he knew she needed the change. It was decided that she should go and stay a month, if she could keep away from home so long. Aunt Hildy said: "Why, Mis' Minot, go right along. Don't you take one stitch of work with you neither. Go, and let your lungs get full of different air, and see what that'll do for you. Take along some everlasting flowers I've got, and make a tea and drink it while you're there, and let the tea and the air do their work together."
So, although it was a trial to mother to leave home, she went, and we were to be alone. There were a good many of us, but it seemed to me, the first week, that her place would not be filled by twenty others, and while I enjoyed the thought of her being free from care, I walked out in the cold March wind alone every night after supper, and let the tears fall. If I had been indoors Clara would surely have found me. It was on one of these walks that Mr. Benton overtook me, and passed his arm within mine, saying:
"What does this mean, Emily," he dropped "Miss Minot" soon after the first talk, "this is the fifth time I have seen you go out at this hour alone; what is the matter? Are you in trouble?"
"And if I am," I said, "what have you to do with it?" at the same time trying to release his arm from mine.
"I have the right of a dear friend, I hope," he said, and the tears that would keep falling forced a confession from me and provoked his laughter, which grated on my ears at first, but he begged pardon for its seeming rudeness, and said he was thinking only of my going over the hills to cry, when I could have a whole house to fill with tears.
We walked farther than I intended, and Matthias passed us on his way over to his "ground room."
I said, "Good evening, Mr. Jones," and he saluted me with uncovered head, saying:
"De Lord keep you, miss, till mornin'."
Realizing how far we had walked, I turned hack so suddenly that Mr. Benton came near being pushed into the stone wall on the old road corners. On our return he spoke of Matthias.