A faint stir beside her made Mary turn her head. John stood there, his footstep had made no noise on the thick carpet.
"It's such a beautiful evening. Don't you want to come out with me on the lake, Mother?" he asked in his rather nervous fluttering voice.
"I'd like to—but I have some work to do," she said quickly.
She seldom went out in the boat. She hated inactivity and mere contemplation of any scene, however lovely; indeed, the lovelier it was, the more painful. But now she saw John's wistful and disappointed look.
"Won't any of the boys go with you?" she asked gently.
"No, I don't think so, they've gone out to the stable.... Did Father say when he'd be home?" he asked, hesitatingly.
"No, he never does."
With this sharp answer, Mary walked away toward her desk. But then she stopped and with an effort said:
"I will go with you, John, if you want."