Ah, he thought, as his heart twisted in him full of wild pain and regret, she will be dead some day and I shall always remember this. Always this. This.
They were silent a moment. He held her rough hand tightly, and kissed her.
“Well,” Eliza began, full of cheerful prophecy, “I tell you what: I’m not going to spend my life slaving away here for a lot of boarders. They needn’t think it. I’m going to set back and take things as easy as any of them.” She winked knowingly at him. “When you come home next time, you may find me living in a big house in Doak Park. I’ve got the lot—the best lot out there for view and location, far better than the one W. J. Bryan has. I made the trade with old Dr. Doak himself, the other day. Look here! What about!” She laughed. “He said,’Mrs. Gant, I can’t trust any of my agents with you. If I’m to make anything on this deal, I’ve got to look out. You’re the sharpest trader in this town.’'Why, pshaw! Doctor,’I said (I never let on I believed him or anything),’all I want is a fair return on my investment. I believe in every one making his profit and giving the other fellow a chance. Keep the ball a-rolling!’I said, laughing as big as you please.’Why, Mrs. Gant!’he said—” She was off on a lengthy divagation, recording with an absorbed gusto the interminable minutia of her transaction with the worthy Quinine King, with the attendant phenomena, during the time, of birds, bees, flowers, sun, clouds, dogs, cows, and people. She was pleased. She was happy.
Presently, returning to an abrupt reflective pause, she said: “Well, I may do it. I want a place where my children can come to see me and bring their friends, when they come home.”
“Yes,” he said, “yes. That would be nice. You mustn’t work all your life.”
He was pleased at her happy fable: for a moment he almost believed in a miracle of redemption, although the story was an old one to him.
“I hope you do,” he said. “It would be nice…. Go on to bed now, why don’t you, mama? It’s getting late.” He rose. “I’m going now.”
“Yes, son,” she said, getting up. “You ought to. Well, good— night.”
