Downstairs in the kitchen Mrs. Morgan sat before the table, certain unused implements before her—namely, pen and ink and paper. She had resolved to spend this evening in writing to John; not that she knew where John was, only that she imagined that the great city, such a little distance away, probably held him. She knew no address; she had simply decided to send the message out, addressed to John Morgan, in the forlorn hope that the chances of life might put it in his way. True, it was extremely doubtful, but then what if it should happen! And the mother's heart within her thrilled at the thought, and she bent over the paper and carefully commenced her letter; she had wonderful things to tell John!
Farmer Morgan dozed in his chair behind the stove. He opened his eyes when the knocker clanged, and kept awake long enough to discover that Dorothy appeared to answer it, then dozed off again.
"It is Mr. Butler," Dorothy said, appearing again to exchange the candle for the lamp, which now belonged to the front room. "Louise and Lewis will be down pretty soon. Will you come in, mother?"
"Not to-night; I am very busy."
Then the writing and the sleeping went on, Dorothy returning to the brightness of the front room. Writing was slow and laborious work to Mrs. Morgan; besides, this was an unusual letter, upon a subject entirely new to her; she wanted to choose her words with special care. Farmer Morgan, enjoying his many naps in the cozy corner, was unmindful of the flight of time. Lewis and Louise in their room, enjoying the delights of a quiet hour together, roused presently to the fact that they were expected downstairs.
"That couldn't have been Mr. Butler," Lewis said, glancing up at the clock. "Dorrie would have been after us before this time if it had."
"Perhaps they are busy over their German," Louise made answer. "But we ought to go down, Lewis; father must be tired of waiting. Mr. Butler is probably gone before this; I did not know it was so late."
But in the kitchen the writing and the dozing were still going on. Mother Morgan, flushed with her unusual exercise, looked up as the husband and wife entered.
"Where is Dorrie?" Lewis asked, speaking low, so as not to disturb his father.
"She is in the front room with Mr. Butler," the mother said. "Mr. Butler came in a few minutes ago; Dorothy said you were coming down to see him."