Cornelius had insisted on staying out on the porch, wrapped in rugs, to see the sun set. It was, Christina guessed, his way of resting and of preparing himself for the rare event of six people sitting down at the table. And while Cathy and Olivia worked, she herself slipped upstairs to lie down for ten minutes and to change into something suitable for the occasion—it had been ages since she had worn anything but tweeds and sweaters. Something festive, springlike, was in order, she felt. Also it might be a fine idea to let Olivia and Cathy have a little talk alone before Joel arrived, full of the painful drama of the afternoon, no doubt.

“You’ve been having adventures?” Olivia asked, laying forks and knives down on the mats, not even looking up. Wild creatures like her niece felt easier when something besides talk could be going on. “You’re not sorry you decided to come?”

“I’m alive, Aunt Olivia! It seems years ago that I was in Boston. Everything’s changed.” She was standing, back to her aunt, at the corner cupboard. “Wine glasses, do you think?”

“Of course. No, not champagne glasses. I brought some Burgundy.”

“These?”

“Yes.” Olivia stopped a moment and leaned on the back of a chair while Cathy brought out the glasses carefully and set one at each place. Alive this fifteen-year-old surely was, but she looked white and strained.

“By ‘everything’s changed’ I suppose you mean you’ve changed—into something rich and strange?”

Cathy gave her aunt a wary, sidewise glance from under her hair.

“I’m all mixed up,” she said. “I’m in love … I think …”

“If you’re not sure, that’s enough to mix anyone up. And it’s this boy who dropped down into Willard like someone from the moon, I presume?”

“Gram told you?” Cathy visibly winced.

“Well, it hasn’t been exactly a secret, has it?” Olivia went back to table-setting, getting out damask napkins from a drawer. “Might as well be as glorious as we can.” She folded each napkin carefully. “Tell me about Joel.”

“He’s—he’s awfully like me, really,” Cathy said. “I mean he ran away from Dartmouth just the way I did from school … only he had no place to go like this … so it was rather wonderful that he ended up in Willard. That’s what he thinks.”

“How serious is this, Cathy?” This time Olivia did not avoid a straight look at Cathy.

“I don’t know,” Cathy breathed, sitting down, as if she had to rest the burden she carried these days.

“Yes … well … from what I hear he’s going to be drafted. You don’t have to make any terrible decisions right now, do you, darling? I mean, can’t you take it easy? Time solves a hell of a lot of things, I’ve found.”