holes of concealment and making her house fitting for Tira's majesty,
all the time muttering her pleas to God.

About noon, when Tira was lying in the front room, in her solitude, no
more to be touched until she was put into her coffin, Raven came in from
his steady walk up and down before the house and went to Nan, where she
sat by the window in the other front room. The strength had gone out of
her. She sat up straight and strong, but her lips were ashen. As they
confronted each other, each saw chiefly great weariness. Raven's face,
Nan thought, was like a mask. It was grave, it was intent, but it did
not really show that he felt anything beyond the general seriousness of
the moment.

"Get your things," he said to her. "We'll go back. Tenney's got to be
told, and I suppose Charlotte or somebody will have to do something to
his house."

They both knew the strange commotion attendant here on funerals.
Sometimes houses were upturned from top to bottom and cleaned, even to
the paint. Nan put out a hand and touched his arm.

"Don't do that, Rookie," she said, "don't take her back there. She
mustn't go into that house again. She wouldn't want it."

Raven considered a moment. His face did not lose its mask-like calm.

"No," he said then, "she mustn't. She must come to my house--or yours."

"No," said Nan again, still keeping her hand on his arm, and aching so
with pity that she was humbly grateful to him for letting her touch his
sleeve, "she mustn't do that either. It would be queer, Rookie. It would
'make talk.' She wouldn't like that. Don't you see?"

He did see. He gave a concurring motion of the head and was turning away
from her, but Nan rose and, still with her hand on his arm, detained
him.

"We'll leave her here," she said. "That woman--she's darling. We can
make up to her afterward. But you mustn't appear in it again, except to
tell Tenney, if you'd rather. Though I could do that. Now, let's go."

He was ready. But when he had reached the little entry between this room
and the one where Tira's body lay, she ran to him.

"Rookie," she said, "Mrs. Donnyhill's out there with the children. Don't
you want to go in and see Tira?"

Raven stood for a minute, considering. Then he crossed the entry and
Nan, finding he could not, for some reason, put his hand on the latch,
opened the door for him, and he went in. But only a step. He stood
there, his eyes on the poor bed where Tira lay, and then, as if he were
l