Prudence said, “It’s September already.”

Abigail looked at her. As if reminding her of some agreement they’d made. Then she looked back at Foster. “You were a good student?”

“I guess I was. Got good grades.”

“Well then. It’s not too late. You’d catch up soon enough.”

“Abby,” he said. “I’ll not go back there.”

Prudence said, “No one was suggesting you return over there and live alone.”

Abby looked at her sister. Prudence said, “I’m quiet.”

“We agreed—”

“You’d talk. Why don’t you go on then and do that. Me, I’m not saying a thing.”

Abby held her gaze a little longer. Then to Foster: “Sister and I’ve talked this through. We don’t offer this lightly. If you were to stay here, finish your high school in Randolph, then you’d be prepared to go on to college.”

Gently he interrupted her. “The truth is, I’ve got most of my course work done. For a diploma. Mostly I’d be sitting killing time.”

One side of her mouth tightened and relaxed. She smiled. “So you’re a better student than you let on to be. There’s nothing wrong with that. But still, it’s too late for you to get into college for this year. So you might as well sit through that last year and get your diploma like everybody else. And perhaps spend some of that time thinking about where you want to go, what you want to do there. Now the university to Burlington’s a good school, is what I hear. But it’s only one of many. You could go anywhere you want. Down there even to Harvard College in Massachusetts. There’s Dartmouth too, not so far away. Or anywhere at all. Anywhere you wanted. Off to California, you wanted.”

“Well,” he said. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about that.”

And she heard his hesitation and went ahead. When she spoke he saw a triumph in her eyes, a fierce pride. “Mother knew the value of money. More than Father ever did. She knew that freedom is only a word without money. Freedom is assumptions but money is actuality. That was why she cared for it. Not for any everyday thing. Even though she was a woman could dress herself in style. But that was all going to town. Around here she was happy in wore-out old clothes. Barefoot frost to frost. It was two things she understood: that the only hope in this world was money. And education. You put those two together and the world opens up for you ways it will not, cannot, otherwise. The point is, there is money in the bank. Money and then some to send you to the best school you can or want to attend.” She paused again and held up a hand as if foreseeing protest and said, “And it is not something you should feel is being given for free. A part of it is yours. A part of it always belonged to your father. The same way a part of this farm did, and so belongs to you. But you’re no farm-boy. That’s clear. Now, Sister and I live here and will until we die. But we’ve no great need for the money, not much of it anyhow. So. There is more than enough. For you to go ahead any way you want.”