e on, not moving, scarcely breathing. She was thinking
how often, when she came downstairs, she would see him standing
here by the window, or moving about in the dusky room, looking at
last as he ought to look,--like his convictions and the choice he
had made. She would never let this house be sold for taxes now.
She would save her salary and pay them off. She could never like
any other room so well as this. It had always been a refuge from
Frankfort; and now there would be this vivid, confident figure,
an image as distinct to her as the portrait of her grandfather
upon the wall.

XIII

Sunday was Claude's last day at home, and he took a long walk
with Ernest and Ralph. Ernest would have preferred to lose
Ralph, but when the boy was out of the harvest field he stuck to
his brother like a burr. There was something about Claude's new
clothes and new manner that fascinated him, and he went through
one of those sudden changes of feeling that often occur in
families. Although they had been better friends ever since
Claude's wedding, until now Ralph had always felt a little
ashamed of him. Why, he used to ask himself, wouldn't Claude
"spruce up and be somebody"? Now, he was struck by the fact that
he was somebody.

On Monday morning Mrs. Wheeler wakened early, with a faintness in
her chest. This was the day on which she must acquit herself
well. Breakfast would be Claude's last meal at home. At eleven
o'clock his father and Ralph would take him to Frankfort to catch
the train. She was longer than usual in dressing. When she got
downstairs Claude and Mahailey were already talking. He was
shaving in the washroom, and Mahailey stood watching him, a side
of bacon in her hand.

"You tell 'em over there I'm awful sorry about them old women,
with their dishes an' their stove all broke up."

"All right. I will." Claude scraped away at his chin.

She lingered. "Maybe you can help 'em mend their things, like you
do mine fur me," she suggested hopefully.

"Maybe," he murmured absently. Mrs. Wheeler opened the stair
door, and Mahailey dodged back to the stove.

After breakfast Dan went out to the fields with the harvesters.
Ralph and Claude and Mr. Wheeler were busy with the car all
morning.

Mrs. Wheeler kept throwing her apron over her head and going down
the hill to see what they were doing. Whether there was really
something the matter with the engine, or whether the men merely
made it a pretext for being together