She watched Brent’s face, and discovered nothing but a faint shadow of surprise, a surprise that was momentary and transient. He leaned forward and stirred up the wood in the stove with an old iron bar that they used for the purpose. The glow from the wood shone on a calm face, and Manon saw that it had cost him no effort to adjust life to the new atmosphere.
“A sound idea,” he said, feeding more wood into the stove.
Perceiving no resistance, Manon let the new plan develop itself.
“It is not that I am a coward, mon ami, or afraid of a rough life.”
“You are no coward,” he said with quiet conviction.
She showed a sudden animation that flowed with the full flood of the new idea.
“I can hire a horse and cart in Ste. Claire, and I must see what can be bought at Amiens. I could drive over here twice a week, and if I started very early in the morning I should be able to spend most of the day here, cook for you, and help you when you needed a second pair of hands. And then, there is the garden.”
“The garden’s important.”
“Yes, our living this summer. I could work in the garden and sow seeds, and I could use the horse and cart to collect things for you. I must think of my good partner’s comfort.”
Brent stared at the fire.