“Nothing to the risk I took by marrying Rufus—but then I didn’t know when I married him what the risks would be. That, I guess, was when I really learned to trust myself—against him. It’s one thing, Cathy, to face violence outside, but it’s another to face it inside, at home.” She lifted her head with scornful pride. “Eben chose to talk about the secret history of Willard in one way, but he might have chosen to talk about it in terms of drunkards who terrify their children and beat their wives. Marriages are battled out behind closed doors—and not only mine, many in this town.”

“It’s all wrong,” Cathy said passionately.

“Yes, I would have said so, too, at fifteen.”

“And now? What do you say now?”

“Now I say one does what one has to do. One lives with what one has chosen. And one doesn’t complain.”

“Eben talked about mystery …”

“The mystery is we go on living. The mystery is we still want to.”

“Sometimes my Uncle John doesn’t want to.”

Ellen lifted her head and gave Cathy a straight look. “Nick and John are sick. You can’t judge by the sick.”

“But what made them sick? They are the two wisest men I know. Why are they called sick?”

“Something lacking—they react in different ways but neither is tough enough to stand reality.”

“Then we have to change reality,” Cathy said. “Joel and I are going to help change it, so kindness will be real … if …”

“If?”

“If the war doesn’t change him.” Tears flowed down under the long hair with which Cathy covered her face.

“Now I’ve made you cry. A fine comfort I am!”

“I’m c-c-crying because maybe it’s not Joel who’s changing but me … I feel so mixed up. Nothing stays the same.” She came over and stood by Ellen, perhaps because, although she was not conscious of it, she knew that Ellen did stay the same. Here was a rock. “His letters are full of dreams, but somehow I don’t believe in them any more—that’s what’s so awful.”

“He writes a pretty fancy letter, that boy.”

“Has he written you?”

“Oh, yes, he writes—can’t make head or tail of it. Sounds way up in the air to me. Sent him some cookies when I made a batch for Nick.”

“You’re so dear.” Cathy suddenly hugged Ellen hard. “I’m so lucky to have you!”

“Some people find their luck in strange places,” Ellen said, disengaging herself gently. “It’s hot in here. Might go out on the back porch for a spell.”

“I’ll go home now,” but Cathy hesitated at the door. How do you thank someone for being? Finally she said, “Thanks for the tea—and everything,” and fled.