"Mr. Jeminy," said Juliet.
"Hop in," said the farmer. "I'll take you along. He's been stopping
with Aaron Bade, over to the Forge. I declare, if that don't beat all.
Curl up in the hay, child, it'll keep you warm. What were you doing,
hollering for him?"
"Yes, sir," said Juliet.
The farm wagon started on again, through the rapidly falling dusk.
Juliet, under a blanket in the hay, looked up at the tall figure of the
farmer, set like a giant above her.
"Mister," she said.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Did he come with a scarlet woman, did you hear?"
"Not so far as I know. No, he came all alone, early in the morning.
Wasn't anybody with him."
Beneath her blanket, Juliet hugged Anna to her breast. "There, you
see," she whispered. And in her fresh, young voice, she began to sing,
while the wagon rattled down the road to Milford, a song she had heard
her mother singing the year Noel Ploughman died.
"Love is the first thing,
Love goes past.
Sorrow is the next thing,
Quiet is the last.
Love is a good thing,
Quiet isn't bad,
But sorrow is the best thing
I've ever had."