Miriam paused. "Will it take you much longer? We miss you."

"I don't think so," Molly said, and started for the door. Miriam moved slightly; her movement was enough to make Molly stop again. "Another two or three weeks," Molly said quickly, not wanting Miriam's hand on her arm.

Miriam nodded, and the moment passed when she could have touched Molly, could have held her. She felt baffled. Again and again when she would have embraced Molly, the moment passed, just as it now had, and they stood apart, not touching.

Molly left her in the large room, and presently Miriam walked to the hospital. "Are you too busy?" she asked, standing in the doorway to Ben's office. "I would like to talk with you."

"Miriam?" The inflection was automatic, as was her slight nod. Only Miriam would come alone; a younger sister would have been accompanied by her. "Come in. It's about Molly, isn't it?"

"Yes." She closed the door and sat down opposite his desk. His desk was covered with papers, notes, his medical notebook that he had carried on the trip with him. She looked from the papers to the man, and thought he was different too. Like Molly. Like all of them who had gone away.

"You told me to come back if it didn't get better," she said. "She's worse than before. She's bringing unhappiness to all the sisters. Can't you do something for her?"

Ben sighed and leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. "It's going to take time."

Miriam shook her head. "You said that before. How is Thomas, and Jed? How are you?"

"We're all coming around," Ben said, smiling slightly. "She will too, Miriam. Believe me, she will."

Miriam leaned toward him. "I don't believe you. I don't think she wants to come back to us. She's resisting us. I wish she hadn't come back at all if this is how she's going to be from now on. It's too hard on the other sisters." She had become very pale, and her voice shook; she turned away from him.

"I'll speak to her," Ben said.

Miriam drew a piece of paper from her pocket. She unfolded it and put it on his desk. "Look at that. What does it mean?"

They were the caricatures Molly had sketched of the brothers early in the trip. Ben studied them, the one of himself in particular. Was he really that grim-looking? That determined? And surely his eyebrows were not that heavy and menacing?

"She's mocking us! Mocking all of you. She has no right to make fun of our brothers like that," Miriam said. "She's watching all the time, watching her sisters as they work and play. She won't participate unless I give her wine, and even then I can feel a difference. Always watching us. Everyone."

Ben smoothed the sketch paper and asked, "What do you propose we do, Miriam?"