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Papa smile again.
 There s a sewing machine in my sitting room, Maude told Claire.  You re welcome to use it
any time. I hope you ll stay for a while. Christmas is only a little over two weeks away.
 I know. I was looking forward to spending it with John. It would have been our first one
together, she said sadly. It broke her heart to think of all the plans she d made, of her dreams. Now
she d be here, and John would be& where? At the Calversons , probably, she thought bitterly. Where
else?
 You can spend it with us, Maude said.  We ll have guests in, and perhaps it will even persuade
Clayton to show some interest in life again. Just take one day at a time, Claire and trust in God to
help things work out as they re meant to.
 I ll do that, she promised.
AS THE DAYS PASSED, CLAIRE found herself fitting very nicely into the Hawthorn circle. She missed
John, of course, and she still felt guilty about worrying him, now of all times when he had such
problems at the bank. But that couldn t be helped.
To keep herself occupied, she began to take little snacks in to Clayton, then coaxed him to eat
them. His appetite improved and so did his color. And she discovered why he didn t read his beloved
books anymore.
 I can t see, he confessed, embarrassed.  There s a sort of film over my eyes. I can see people
well enough, but I can t read.
 Suppose I read to you? she suggested.
His whole face brightened.  You could find the time?
 Of course I could. She smiled.  Just tell me what you d like to hear.
He did. There were novels like Herman Melville s Billy Budd and nonfiction classics like the
histories of Flavius Josephus, Tacitus, and Herodotus. Claire sat and read to him every afternoon
while the sea breeze brought its salty flavor into the room. She d questioned the wisdom of all that
fresh air at one time, but it did seem to be helping him. He improved daily.
 Have you always been a banker? Claire asked him one afternoon after she d finished reading
him a chapter of Herodotus about the Egyptians.
 Not always, he replied.  In my younger days, I was a sailor. I loved the sea. Still do. Jason
inherited the sea fever from me and even though he owns the fishing fleet, he still goes out with the
boats sometimes. He sighed wistfully.  I wish I could go out with him. I miss a deck under my feet. I
had a yacht until I became too ill to sail her, he added.  I miss her as much as I d miss Maude if, God
forbid, I ever lost her.
 Can t you go out with Jason?
He pondered that.  I don t know. I ve improved since you ve been here, he said, glancing at her
amusedly.  Perhaps in a few more months, when spring comes, I might try it.
 Does John like the sea? she asked, with her eyes demurely downcast.
He sighed.  You don t know him at all, do you, girl?
Her slender body moved restively in the chair.  Not really, she confessed.  We don t speak of
personal things.
 What a loss. Maude and I have always been good friends, since we were children. We ve known
each other all our lives. He drew the covers tighter around him.  John liked the sea, yes but not
enough to join the navy, he continued.  He sailed with me when he was younger. He can handle a
boat as well as Jason. But I made it impossible for him to come home. You know about the boys?
 Yes, Claire said sadly.  I m so sorry.
 I m sorry, too sorry especially that I blamed John for something that was not his fault. The
boys were keen to go to war, and all my ranting and raving wouldn t change their minds. I had to let
them go. It was my own guilt that I took out on John.
 God has plans for us that don t always coincide with our own, she said firmly.  He had need of
your boys, and He took them. You have to realize that we have no power over life and death. And
death is a thing that all of us will experience, a certainty. One cannot blame other human beings for a
divine call.
 I know that now, he said sheepishly.  But at the time, I was rather out of sorts with God. I ve
come to realize that His will is stronger than mine. I hope I ve made my peace with Him. Now I want
to make it with my son before it s too late. He looked at her intently.  Is it too late, Claire? Does he
speak of me?
She swallowed.  He doesn t speak of any of you, except that once, when he told me why you
didn t speak to each other. I m sorry. But then, she added helpfully,  we don t speak of personal
things as a rule, as I mentioned.
 Yes, yes. I remember. He closed his eyes and then opened them again.  Life is so hard, Claire.
Harder than ever for us older ones, once we stop walking in step with the younger folk. I remember
when convention was everything, when men treated women like fairies and idolized them. Now
women have so many causes, so many complaints. A man hardly knows how to treat them. He
grimaced.  And all these modern things, telephones and electricity and motorcars. Where will it all
end?
 Progress cannot be stopped, she commented.  And motorcars are very exciting. I have one,
you know. It was my uncle s. I drive it and I can even repair it!
He sat up in bed. His eyes almost popped.  You can repair it? Heavens, aren t you afraid of it? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]