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He sprang through the window, and patted her on the back his usual salutation. Terms of endearment she had, characteristically, never used, she threw her soul into the sounding of his name. "Off to the hills, Austen? I saw you a-harnessing of Pepper." "Phrasie," he said, still patting her, "I'm going to the country for a while." "To the country?" she repeated.
"I shall be, Phrasie," he said; "you mustn't worry about that." For a while the only sound in the room was the ticking of the old clock with the quaint, coloured picture on its panel. And then, with a movement which, strangely, was an acute reminder of a way Victoria had, Euphrasia turned and searched his face once more. "You're not happy," she said.
"To stay on a farm for a sort of vacation." Her face brightened. "Goin' to take a real vacation, be you?" He laughed. "Oh, I don't have to work very hard, Phrasie. You know I get out a good deal. I just thought I just thought I'd like to sleep in the country for a while." "Well," answered Euphrasia, "I guess if you've took the notion, you've got to go. It was that way with your mother before you.
"Was yours easily mended?" he asked. Euphrasia was silent a moment. "He never knew," she repeated, in a low voice. "Well, Phrasie, it looks very much as if we were in the same boat," he said. Euphrasia's heart gave a bound. "Then you haven't spoke!" she cried; "I knew you hadn't. I I was a woman but sometimes I've thought I'd ought to have given him some sign.
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