“Please, Duff,” I said sharply, irritated as much by his manner as his words. Then to Mrs. Reddy: “Aunt Hannah must have realized it would be impossible for us to stay here, considering my husband’s work.”

“Oh, yes, but she thought Mr. Caine would be retiring from that one day. He has retired now, hasn’t he?” The old lady paused after what seemed to be a warning glance from her daughter. “Though I suppose it’s hard to cut ties you’ve had a long time. Maybe you could do it gradually. Just stay a month or so this time and get used to the place.”

“We can’t stay a month,” I said flatly.

“Well maybe a couple of weeks then to start.”

She was beginning to irritate me, although I felt that she meant well. I managed to turn her to the subject of towels and linen and the location of the best supermarket in Cainesville (tell the butcher you’re a friend of Mrs. Reddy’s) and we got up to leave.

While we were standing at the door, Mrs. Weber’s daughter, Stephanie, came into the room. She seemed to be in her early twenties, tall and rather sleepy looking. She could have been rather attractive, I thought, but like her mother and grandmother she was overweight. It seemed that she had completed two years of nursing training at Ashland Hospital, but had to drop out of the program because of an allergic condition. After greeting us without really looking at us, Stephanie began nibbling cookies.

Mrs. Reddy’s last words to us were a reminder that her son-in-­law could do any sort of work that needed to be done at the Caine place. As we drove away, I wondered aloud if that was why she wanted us to stay so badly—to provide work for Emil.

Jack pooh-­poohed it. He thought maybe Mrs. Reddy just missed Aunt Hannah and hoped to be consoled by having some of Aunt Hannah’s relatives near her. Also, he thought it only natural for any property owner to want responsible people as neighbors.

It was a ten-­minute drive to Cainesville, a one-­commercial-­ street town. The recommended supermarket turned out to be the only supermarket. It was well stocked, however, and the prices seemed lower than those we had been used to paying in Scarsdale.

I had intended to buy only enough food for dinner and perhaps breakfast, but Jack and Franny loaded up the cart, and Duff got into the spirit of the thing too, contributing crackers and other snacks that, he explained, we could take back with us if we didn’t use them at the farm.