“This is a nice place,” said Eugene. “You get a nice view of the town from here.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Pert. “And Old Ben’s got the nicest place of all. You get a better view right here than anywhere else. I’ve been here before in the daytime.” In a moment she went on. “Old Ben will turn into lovely flowers. Roses, I think.”
“No,” said Eugene, “dandelions—and big flowers with a lot of thorns on them.”
She stood looking about fuzzily for a moment, with the blurred gentle smile on her lips.
“It is getting dark, Mrs. Pert,” said Eugene hesitantly. “Are you out here alone?”
“Alone? I’ve got Old’Gene and Old Ben here, haven’t I?” she said.
“Maybe we’d better go back, Mrs. Pert?” he said. “It’s going to turn cold to-night. I’ll go with you.”
“Fatty can go by herself,” she said with dignity. “Don’t worry,’Gene. I’ll leave you alone.”
“That’s all right,” said Eugene, confused. “We both came for the same reason, I suppose.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Pert. “Who’ll be coming here this time next year, I wonder? Will Old’Gene come back then?”
“No,” said Eugene. “No, Mrs. Pert. I shall never come here again.”
“Nor I,’Gene,” she said. “When do you go back to school?”
“To-morrow,” he said.
“Then Fatty will have to say good-bye,” she said reproachfully. “I’m going away too.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, surprised.
“I’m going to live with my daughter in Tennessee. You didn’t know Fatty was a grandmother, did you?” she said, with her soft blurred smile. “I’ve a little grandson two years old.”
“I’m sorry to see you go,” Eugene said.
Mrs. Pert was silent a moment, rocking vaguely upon her feet.
“What did they say was wrong with Ben?” she asked.
“He had pneumonia, Mrs. Pert,” said Eugene.
“Oh, pneumonia! That’s it!” She nodded her head wisely as if satisfied. “My husband’s a drug salesman, you know, but I never
