Joshua Iden was walking on his lawn, his coat off, his gray head uncovered.

Mrs.Iden sat on the low-roofed porch.

Lane expected to see a sad change in her, something the same as he had found in his own mother.

But he was hardly prepared for the frail, white-haired woman unlike the image he carried in his mind.
"Daren Lane! You should have come to see me long ago," was her greeting, and in her voice, so like Mel's, Lane recognized her.

Some fitting reply came to him, and presently the moment seemed easier for all.