swear to't, an'
he said no. I was glad o' that, though mebbe it's no worse to swear to
anything than 'tis to say it. He was terrible good to me. I told him
baby'd got to lay over to Mountain Brook, side o' mother, an' he said he
was goin' there an' he'd git one of 'em to dig the little grave. I told
him you're all run down, your foot behavin' so, an' you wouldn't be able
to do nothin', an' I was 'most afraid o' your givin' out, when I told
you. So he's goin' to send the man with the little coffin."

There was no faintest tremor of bitterness or gibing in this. It was the
simplest statement of facts. Tenney had stood perfectly still, but now
he lifted one hand and looked at it casually, as he had that other time.
He made an uncertain step, as if to pass her and enter the house, but
Tira stretched out her arms. They barred the way.

"No," she said, "you ain't comin' in."

"Ain't comin' in?" repeated Tenney.

He looked up at her, but his glance fell at once to the trembling hand.

"No," said Tira, "you ain't comin' into this house ag'in till he's
carried out of it. I've made you up a bed in the lower barn an' I've set
you out suthin' to eat there. Day after to-morrer mornin' the doctor's
comin' over after me an' baby--or send somebody, if he can't come--an'
he's goin' to see to the minister an' all. He was terrible sorry for me.
An' that night, day after to-morrer night, you can come back into the
house; but you can't come before."

She went in and shut the door behind her, and Tenney heard the key turn
sharply in the lock. He stood there several minutes, moistening his dry
lips and looking down at his hands, and then he, too, turned about and
went down to the lower barn, where he found a bed made up and a cold
lunch on a little table. But while he ate he wondered, in an absent
muse, about the bed. It was the old four-poster he had packed away in
the shed chamber. How had she carried the heavy hardwood pieces down,
fitted them together and corded them? He was curious enough to lift the
tick to find out what she had used for cord. Her new clothes-line; and
there was the bed wrench in the corner by the chopping block. It looked
as if, having done with it, she had thrown it there in a wild haste to
get on with these things that must be done before he came. Even then,
with his mind on his hands--not hands, it seemed to him, he could quite
bear to touch food with--he wondered if some man had helped her. Had
Martin been h