She allowed
herself to be poked about and rearranged as to her shawl and the
narrow-brimmed youthful hat which she wore on the peak of her skull,
and she softened to something like a smile at the touch of Statira's
quick hands.
They had all come rather early to make their parting visit at the
Sewells, for the Barkers were going to take the two o'clock train
for Willoughby Pastures, while Statira was to remain in Boston till
he could make a home for her. Lemuel promised to write, as soon as
he should be settled, and tell Sewell about his life and his work;
and Sewell, beyond earshot of his wife, told him he might certainly
count upon seeing them at Willoughby in the course of the next
summer. They all shook hands several times. Lemuel's mother gave her
hand from under the fringe of her shawl, standing bolt upright at
arm's-length off, and Sewell said it felt like a collection of corn-
cobs.
XXXV.
"Well?" said Sewell's wife, when they were gone.
"Well," he responded; and after a moment he said, "There's this
comfort about it which we don't always have in such cases: there
doesn't seem to be anybody else. It would be indefinitely worse if
there were."
"Why, of course. What in the world are you thinking about?"
"About that foolish girl who came to me with her miserable love-
trouble. I declare, I can't get rid of it.
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