“That’s how he made our life good,” Ada said.  “Ma never understood that book at all.  She did things her own way.”  Ada held up a handkerchief embroidered with lace and violets.  “This was hers.”  She lifted it to her face and inhaled deeply.  “Hyacinth.  Ma used to pin it to her shirt because Pa liked the smell so much.”  The beautiful scent immediately drifted out into the room.

“If you closed it up tight, it might last longer.”

“I know.  But I like it this way.  I like smelling it in the room.”

Jeremy’s new offering was a discarded snakeskin and Charlotte remembered her dead bees.  The eagle feather still stood out.  Where are you?  In what high lonely place?

They began their own writing.  Ada took Charlotte’s suggestion and composed a long letter to Mrs. Bixby that she worked on for most of one morning, crossing out, starting over, the pen digging deep against the expensive bond of the letterhead.  Brewster wrote a long list of questions addressed very endearingly, Charlotte thought, to the bugler.  Without anybody taking particular notice, Grace began drawing pictures on her slate.

Charlotte showed them her father’s way of brushing the horses and they took turns bringing on the nickering.  She provided Jeremy with a stool and a second brush from the stable master so that he could be in heaven too, doing his small part alongside the others.

At night in front of the fire, she waded into the next subject on her list.

“As I’ve said before, I’ll only be comfortable if we’re earning our keep.  The bread will hopefully be one thing.  Should be others, though.”

“Brewster will come up with something,” Ada said.  “He always does.”  The concentration on Brewster’s face said he was already working at it.

The last necessity on Charlotte’s agenda was to take Ada aside.

“We’re going for a walk.  Brewster, can you take charge?  It won’t be for very long.”

Brewster grew stern.  If she didn’t know by now that he could take charge, he didn’t understand when she ever would.  She laughed and hugged him though she’d been made very aware that he wasn’t fond of being hugged.

“Where are we going?” Ada said outside.

“Nowhere in particular.  But there are some things I need to tell you.”

“Finally.”

“Just because you’re thirteen doesn’t mean you get to be all mouth.”

“You know I never talked to anyone else but you, ever.”

“I heard something like that from Ellis Gray,” Charlotte said.  She hadn’t thought of him in so long.

“I liked him.”

“So did I.”

“Maybe someday we’ll see him again.”

“And maybe we won’t.  But here, this is what I wanted you to know.”