“Ed drove over with Reg and Emma; I guess he won’t be very long.  There was something he wanted to say to old man Sharp that he’d forgot about.”

“Then you didn’t get your talk with him?”

She was glad of that.  It was better to have their own talk first.  But as it had been he who had broached the subject of her leaving, it was he who must reopen it.

“No, but I guess anything I’ve got to say to him will keep till he gets back.  Ed’s thinking of buying a clearing-machine that’s for sale over Prentice way.”

“Yes, he told me.”

Without turning her head, she could tell that he was looking around for the matches.  He never could remember that they were kept in a jar over on the shelf back of the stove.  He was going to smoke his pipe, of course.  When men were nervous about anything they always flew to tobacco.  Women were denied that poor consolation.  But she, too, felt the necessity of having something to occupy her hands.  She went back to the table, and taking some of Frank’s thick woolen socks from her basket, sat down and began mechanically to darn them.  She purposely placed herself so that he could only see her profile.  Even then, he would see that her eyes were still red; she hadn’t had time to bathe them.

“I suppose I look a sight, but poor Mrs. Sharp was so upset!  She broke down and cried and of course I’ve been crying, too.  I’m so thankful it’s turned out all right for her.  Poor thing, I never saw her in such a state!”

“They’ve got five children to feed.  I guess it would make a powerful lot of difference to them,” he said quietly.

“I wish you’d told me all about it before.  I felt that something was worrying you, and I didn’t know what.”  There was a pause.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“If I saved the crop, there didn’t seem any use fussing, and if I didn’t, you’d know soon enough.”

“How could you bear to let me put those dreadful flowers here in the house?” she said, pointing to the bowl on the table.

“Oh, I guess I didn’t mind, if it gave you any pleasure.  You didn’t know they was only a weed and a poisonous one for us farmers.  You thought them darned pretty.”

“That was very kind of you, Frank,” said Nora.  Her voice shook a little in spite of her effort to control it.

“I guess it’s queer that a darned little flower like that should be able to do so much damage.”

That subject exhausted, there came another pause.  He was very evidently waiting her lead.  Could Eddie have told him anything about the news from England?  No, he hadn’t had any opportunity.  Besides it would have been very unlike Eddie, who, as a general rule, had a supreme talent for minding his own affairs.

“How did it happen that you didn’t tell me that you had written to Eddie?”

“I guess I forgot.”

She waited a few moments to make sure that her voice was quite steady: