Amherst by William Nicholson Page B

your snowball, Ned.”
    “And your throw,” said Ned. “We are joint victors.”
    He took her gloved hand and looked, laughing, deep into her eyes.
    “So you see, Mrs. Todd,” he said, “together we can overcome the world.”
    Mabel enjoyed Ned’s gallantries without taking them seriously. He was still a boy as far as she was concerned, though in plain figures he was only five years her junior.
    On their return to the Evergreens, Ned said to Mabel, “Now, in exchange for my driving I ask for some singing.”
    But Austin was waiting. He expressed the intention of going out for a stroll, to see the winter sunset.
    “We’ve just got back,” said Sue. “Why would we want to go out again? Make up the fire. Mabel is going to sing for us.”
    Mabel was standing by Austin’s side. Austin turned to her.
    “I know Mrs. Todd shares my love for sunsets. I ask her as a kindness to keep me company, if only to the end of the street.”
    Ned looked round to claim Mabel for the party in the house, and saw the way his father looked at her, and the way she lookedback, and how they both quickly broke the look. There was nothing more to it, but in that moment, with the heightened sensibility of a lover, Ned understood that there was an intimacy between them.
    “It’s true that I do love the sunset,” said Mabel. “I’m sure I shall sing all the more sweetly after I’ve watched the day end in all its glory.”
    Ned looked on in silence. He saw Mrs. Todd reach for her coat to go out again. He saw how his father helped her to put it on. He saw the door close behind them.
    Mattie ran off to find her little brother, Gib. Sue knelt on the rug before the fire to warm her hands. Ned crossed the room slowly, and stood in silence behind his mother.
    “That was a fine brisk ride,” said Sue, “but you must take care not to wear out the horses. You know how your father loves them.”
    “Do I?” said Ned.
    Sue looked round, surprised by his tone.
    “What’s the matter, Ned?”
    “My father loves sunsets, too.”
    “What of it? What’s come over you?”
    Ned knew he should say nothing, but he was unable to hold back the bitterness rising within him.
    “My father is very attentive to Mrs. Todd,” he said.
    “Why should he not be? She’s a charming friend to us. To you most of all, I should say.”
    “No, Mother. Not to me most of all.”
    “To whom, then?”
    “You may choose to be blind if you wish,” exclaimed Ned. “I wish I could be blind.”
    With that he left the room.
    Sue was not altogether blind. Prompted by Ned’s outburst, she set to reviewing recent events in a fresh light.
    By the time Austin and Mabel returned, it was fully dark outside.
    “It must have been a fine sunset,” said Sue. “I began to think you were waiting for the dawn as well.”
    “We stayed to see the last light fade in the sky,” said Mabel. “And now I’m back and ready to take my place at the piano.”
    “I think perhaps we’ve had enough excitements for the day,” said Sue. “We take up far too much of your time as it is, Mrs. Todd.”
    Mabel looked at Sue in some surprise.
    “You know you have only to ask,” she said.
    “What’s the matter, Sue?” said Austin sharply. “Are you sending Mrs. Todd away?”
    “Ned has a headache,” said Sue. “I think it would be better if we were quiet this evening.”
    “It would be better if we were quiet every evening,” said Austin angrily.
    “Please, Mr. Dickinson,” said Mabel, “don’t concern yourself over me. I have so many letters to write. I’ll take myself off, and sing another day.” To Sue, “My sympathies to Ned.”
    “Then I’ll see you home,” said Austin.
    “Perhaps you can watch the moon rise,” said Sue.
    To this Austin gave no answer.
    For a while they walked in silence up the street. Then Austin said to Mabel, “I’m not surprised. I had expected something of this sort sooner.”
    Mabel, distressed, said very low, “What are we to