“I wonder if God wanted she as much as us,” he said. Then a feeling of unutterable loneliness came upon him. His bravery fell from him, and he ran sobbing to Old John.
“I be frightened,” he sobbed. “I want Mammy; will Mammy have gotten home?”
Clumsily Old John held him in his arms, and, six years old though he was, Tommy fell asleep just like a little boy. Since Saturday everything had been so sad and so unusual; he had not been to school and the days had dragged. He had gone to bed late and got up early, and now he was quite tired out. Old John carried him upstairs and laid him gently upon the unmade bed. There Tommy slept until he was awakened for the dinner of fish.
Before tea Tommy left Old John’s cottage, and Old John went to see to his lobster pots.
In her unaccustomed black Mammy’s pale face looked still paler. Daddy was wearing his wedding-suit and a broad black tie. It was all so unusual that Tommy felt almost a stranger in his own house. Auntie Martha came in early in the evening and brought with her a coat of Mabel’s which she thought would do for Tommy to wear to school in the coming winter months.
“It do be a bit small for Mabel, anyhow,” she explained, “an’ now as her do be a-wearin’ black it ain’t but little good to she.”
It was a fawn coat with brown velvet collar and cuffs—a beautiful coat, Tommy thought. This present was a gleam of brightness in a dreary day, and he wished the winter would come quickly that he might wear it at once.
“Come along to bed, Tommy,” said Mammy, “and bring the noo coat with ee.”
“All right, Mammy,” he replied, “won’t be but a minute,” and he walked to the door.
“Where be a-goin’?” Mammy spoke very gently.