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"
Aunt
Rose
,
"
he
said
gravely
,
"
why
don
’
t
we
go
for
a
walk
right
now
?
I
’
ll
show
you
the
butterfly
ravine
just
down
that
way
.
"
They
walked
together
all
around
town
.
Douglas
talked
swiftly
,
nervously
,
not
looking
at
her
,
listening
only
to
the
courthouse
clock
strike
the
afternoon
hours
.
Strolling
back
under
the
warm
summer
elms
toward
the
house
,
Aunt
Rose
suddenly
gasped
and
put
her
hand
to
her
throat
.
There
,
on
the
bottom
of
the
porch
step
,
was
her
luggage
,
neatly
packed
.
On
top
of
one
suitcase
,
fluttering
in
the
summer
breeze
,
was
a
pink
railroad
ticket
.
The
boarders
,
all
ten
of
them
,
were
seated
on
the
porch
stiffly
.
Grandfather
,
like
a
train
conductor
,
a
mayor
,
a
good
friend
,
came
down
the
steps
solemnly
.
"
Rose
,
"
he
said
to
her
,
taking
her
hand
and
shaking
it
up
and
down
,
"
I
have
something
to
say
to
you
.
"
"
What
is
it
?
"
said
Aunt
Rose
.
"
Aunt
Rose
,
"
he
said
.
"
Good
-
bye
.
"
They
heard
the
train
chant
away
into
the
late
afternoon
hours
.
The
porch
was
empty
,
the
luggage
gone
,
Aunt
Rose
’
s
room
unoccupied
.
Grandfather
in
the
library
,
groped
behind
E
.
A
.
Poe
for
a
small
medicine
bottle
,
smiling
.
Grandma
came
home
from
a
solitary
shopping
expedition
to
town
.
