“You always think of things——”
“Baldy will take the boys to the grove, and do any errands you may have for him.” She was her calm and competent self—letting him get control of his emotion while she directed others.
Baldy, coming in, wrung Evans’ hand. “The boys and I will get the pine, and Edith Towne is coming out to help. I called her up to tell her——”
Baldy stopped at that. He could not speak here of the glory that encompassed him. He had said, “If death should come to us, Edith! Does anything else count?” And she had said, “Nothing.” And now she was coming and they would pick roses together in the garden. And love and life would minister to a greater mystery....
When Baldy and the boys had gone, Jane and Evans opened the windows and pulled up the shades. The house was filled with clear light, and was cool in the breeze.
When they had finished, Jane said, “That’s all, I think. We can rest a bit. And presently it will be time for dinner.”
“I don’t want any dinner.”
They were in the library. Outside was an amethyst twilight, with a young moon low in the sky. Evans and Jane stood by the window, looking out, and Jane asked in a hushed voice, “You don’t want any dinner because she won’t be at the other end of the table?”
“Yes.” His face was turned from her. His hands were clinched. His throat was dry. For a moment he wished he were alone that he might weep for his mother.
And then Jane said, “Let me sit at the other end of your table.”