and keeping away from the
house, she did not know. She felt that her presence was not much
desired, and at last she went upstairs and resignedly watched
them from the sitting-room window. Presently she heard Ralph run
up to the third storey. When he came down with Claude's bags in
his hands, he stuck his head in at the door and shouted
cheerfully to his mother:

"No hurry. I'm just taking them down so they'll be ready."

Mrs. Wheeler ran after him, calling faintly, "Wait, Ralph! Are
you sure he's got everything in? I didn't hear him packing."

"Everything ready. He says he won't have to go upstairs again.
He'll be along pretty soon. There's lots of time." Ralph shot
down through the basement.

Mrs. Wheeler sat down in her reading chair. They wanted to keep
her away, and it was a little selfish of them. Why couldn't they
spend these last hours quietly in the house, instead of dashing
in and out to frighten her? Now she could hear the hot water
running in the kitchen; probably Mr. Wheeler had come in to wash
his hands. She felt really too weak to get up and go to the west
window to see if he were still down at the garage. Waiting was
now a matter of seconds, and her breath came short enough as it
was.

She recognized a heavy, hob-nailed boot on the stairs, mounting
quickly. When Claude entered, carrying his hat in his hand, she
saw by his walk, his shoulders, and the way he held his head,
that the moment had come, and that he meant to make it short. She
rose, reaching toward him as he came up to her and caught her in
his arms. She was smiling her little, curious intimate smile,
with half-closed eyes.

"Well, is it good-bye?" she murmured. She passed her hands over
his shoulders, down his strong back and the close-fitting sides
of his coat, as if she were taking the mould and measure of his
mortal frame. Her chin came just to his breast pocket, and she
rubbed it against the heavy cloth. Claude stood looking down at
her without speaking a word. Suddenly his arms tightened and he
almost crushed her.

"Mother!" he whispered as he kissed her. He ran downstairs and
out of the house without looking back.

She struggled up from the chair where she had sunk and crept to
the window; he was vaulting down the hill as fast as he could go.
He jumped into the car beside his father. Ralph was already at
the wheel, and Claude had scarcely touched the cushions when they
were off. They ran down the creek and over the bridge, th