She had done so much for me, too.

Had not she and I cried together over the memory of my mother?
Had she not been my intimate companion for weeks, cooked for me, planned for me, advised me, dreamed with me?
It was not nearly so lonely as you might think, in one sense of the word.
And now I had not seen her for such a long time that I wondered if she were not forgetting me.

No wonder that I was a little flighty, as I crowded myself into my poor best suit which I was so rapidly outgrowing, and walked into Monterey Centre in time to be Judge Horace Stone's body-guard the night of the party--I heard it called a reception--at Governor DeWitt Clinton Wade's new Gothic house, over in Benton Township that was to be.
I was proportionately miserable when I called at Elder Thorndyke's, to find that Virginia was not ready to see me, and that Grandma Thorndyke seemed cool and somehow different toward me.

When she left me, I slipped out and went to Stone's.
"Thought you wasn't coming, Jake," said he.

"Almost give you up.