When her father and brothers came home at noon they found the old stern quiet in her face, and their suspicions that there had been a rupture with Lot ceased.

They were relieved, but the boy Richard eyed her with furtive pity.

That night he lingered behind the others when they dispersed for the night, and went up to Madelon and threw an arm around her, and laid his cheek against hers.

"Oh, Madelon, I wish--" he began, and then he caught his breath, and his cheek against hers was wet, and Madelon turned and comforted him, as a woman will turn and comfort a man for even his pity for her sorrow.
"There is no need for you to fret," she said, with a sort of gentle authority, as if she had been his mother.

"I've got my life to live, and I've got strength enough to live it.