All were deeply moved.
"Now, Norah," Grandmother Tilghman said, "the moment that man comes back
you go to him and kiss him, and say, 'James, you have been the only
father to my son. Do you want me to be your wife?' This world is made
for marrying, Norah. Women have no other career. Nature does not value
the brain of Shakespeare, but keeps the seed of every vagrant plant
warm, and marries everything."
"Well," said Vesta, "Norah loves James Phoebus; don't you, Norah?"
The widow blushed.
"Take him, my pretty neighbor," said Milburn.
As they all looked at her, she suddenly cried:
"I want to, indeed. I would have done so before, but I am superstitious.
Who is it that feeds me so mysteriously?"
"Has he been coming of late?" asked Mrs. Tilghman.
"No, not since you were married, Vesta."
"Then I think it will come no more," Milburn said. "You have waited
longer than I did."
His eyes sought his wife's. He added:
"Will I ever be more than your husband?"
"Yes," said Grandmother Tilghman, with a special effort, "when you wear
a hat a young wife is not ashamed of."
All felt a cold thrill at these words from the blind woman. Milburn
said, gravely,
"How can you know about hats, when you cannot see them?"
"Oh," said Grandmother, herself a little frightened, "that hat I think I
can smell."
* * * * *
That same night, in Princess Anne, Mrs.
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