She's coming home, Spunkie; and she'll make it a home for you, for me, and for all of us.

Up to now, you know, it hasn't really been a home, for years--just us men, so.

It'll be very different, Spunkie, as you'll soon find out.
Now mind, madam! We must show that we appreciate all this: no tempers, no tantrums, no showing of claws, no leaving our coats--either yours or mine--on the drawing-room chairs, no tracking in of mud on clean rugs and floors! For we're going to have a home, Spunkie--a home!" At Hillside, Aunt Hannah was, indeed, helping Rosa to put the house to rights, as Marie had said.

She was crying, too, over a glove she had found on Billy's piano; but she was crying over something else, also.
Not only had she lost Billy, but she had lost her home.
To be sure, nothing had been said during that nightmare of a week of hurry and confusion about Aunt Hannah's future; but Aunt Hannah knew very well how it must be.

This dear little house on the side of Corey Hill was Billy's home, and Billy would not need it any longer.