* * *

Bears found her an hour later, where she sat on a beech stump that overlooked the waterfall and the cabins. It had become a favorite place for her since she moved to Lake in the Clouds; the rushing of the water was soothing, and everything she held dear in the world was within view. Soon there would be snow and this spot would be lost to her until spring. Falling—Day was predicting a hard winter from the way the corn husks had grown in a tight swirl, and the thickness of the muskrat shelters. Elizabeth pulled her shawl more closely around her shoulders against the chill.

She knew that she should go down and cook, too, but she also knew that no one would mind if she did not; Falling—Day would have enough red corn soup for all of them. Nathaniel was in the barn, skinning a deer. She caught sight of him, now and then, looking in her direction. They all knew where she was; they were all content to leave her this time on her own. All except Runs-from-Bears.

She watched him coming in her direction, and tried to set her face in a welcoming smile. He hunkered down, his hands draped casually over his knees, and watched with her.

"Things are simpler in the bush," Elizabeth said after a while. When he had nothing to add to this observation, she picked up a stick from the ground and began to break pieces off it, until she could put off the question no longer.

"Sennonhtonnnon'?" What are you thinking?

Runs-from-Bears said: "You are one of the bravest women I have ever known. But you sit here shivering in fear of akok-stenha."

Elizabeth flung the stick at him and it caught in his hair. "I hope you did not call her an old woman to her face. And you should understand," she said. "You just spent three days in her company." Then her voice caught, hoarse with tears, and she pressed her hands to her eyes. "How will I explain? How can I ever explain?"

Bears pulled the stick from his hair, and dropped it. "She does not hold you responsible for what happened to Julian. He made his own way."

Her head jerked up, and she saw his expression: firm, and without pity.

"She has a younger brother, too, and he has been a disappointment to her. Maybe she knows more of what is in your heart than you imagine."

Surprised out of her anxiety, Elizabeth examined his expression closely. "My aunt has been very frank with you. She must have wanted some information."

Bears produced a grin. "Quid pro quo."

"I cannot imagine what news she might have of interest to you, Bears."

He said, "Your aunt has had an adventure or two of her own. They came to New—York by way of Montreal. Where she made the acquaintance of Richard Todd."

Elizabeth heard what he had said; she heard him repeat it. But she still could not quite credit what he told her. Richard Todd was in Montreal; her aunt Merriweather had had opportunity to meet and talk with him. There was a hollow feeling in Elizabeth's stomach when she thought of the lies that Richard had probably told, made only slightly less by the knowledge that aunt Merriweather had spent the days after Montreal with the Schuylers; from them she would have heard something more of the truth. It was almost funny: she had first dreaded having to make her visitors acquainted with all that had happened here in Paradise in the past few weeks, and now her aunt seemed to be in possession of that information, and more. More than Elizabeth herself knew, or wanted anyone to know.

"She asks more questions than you do, Looks—Hard."

Suddenly resigned, Elizabeth wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and squared her shoulders. "Perhaps it would be best to see her this evening, after all."

Bears rose, and offered her a hand up. "Tkayeri," he said. It is proper so."

* * *

Elizabeth, Nathaniel, and Hannah arrived at the judge's door just after dark, to find the house in great turmoil. Instead of the normal lamplight, beeswax candles blazed in all the downstairs rooms. The hall was crowded with luggage and boxes which Manny was busily sorting away, but there was no sign of the visitors or of the judge. Polly appeared with her arms full of bedding in the doorway of the study. It seemed that they were in the process of moving Kitty and her son into the house, and the study was to be converted into a nursery. Nathaniel saw by the look on Elizabeth's face that she was not at all surprised at this. In fact, she was barely able to suppress a smile.

"It looks like aunt Merriweather's planning on moving in herself," Nathaniel noted, stepping over a tea chest inlaid with mother—of—pearl.

"Oh no," Elizabeth said. "Perhaps there is luggage here for a week, certainly not more than two. She did not bring a cat with her?" This last question was directed to Polly, who confirmed that there was no cat in the traveling party. Elizabeth nodded, satisfied. "Without Aphrodite she will not stay for more than a week or ten days."

"Should we go help?" asked Hannah, trying hard to curb her curiosity about a large trunk marked "Library."

"Absolutely not," Elizabeth said. "She'll have everyone jumping as it is. We'll sit here, and wait."

Nathaniel moved a stack of hatboxes and she made a place for herself near the hearth. Hannah managed to find the bookshelf and settled down in a corner. Nathaniel took Elizabeth's hand, icy cold, and rubbed it between his own. There was a jumpiness in her that was foreign to him, but he had observed that even a woman as unflappable as Falling—Day could be brought out of her calm when she believed her mother or an older aunt to be close by.

The wagon pulled up, and in almost no time at all, Aunt Merriweather appeared at the door. Nathaniel saw straight off that she was the kind of woman who made the wind move with her. She was tall, with a back as straight as a sword and a set to her shoulders that would have suited a general. In her arms was a bundle which Nathaniel supposed held Kitty's child. She handed it over to Curiosity without hesitation, and then crossed the room in a great crackle of skirts and capes, all in black. "Elizabeth, my dear," she said, holding out her hands. "Come and kiss me. I suppose this is your husband? I am so very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Bonner. Such good reports I have had of you, I wonder if they could all possibly be true? And your Hannah. Come closer, child, and let me look at you. Your uncle Runs-from-Bears told me all about you—somewhere in my things I have something which might interest you. Curiosity, would tea be too much? You must tell me if I am being too demanding—I am only a visitor, and I have no wish to disrupt your household. Sit here, Elizabeth, where I can examine you. Whatever are you wearing on your feet? Could we find paper and ink, do you imagine? I need your assistance at once, we must construct a list. I find your father—most excellent man, but a man ill prepared to take on the task of raising his grandson. We must find the good even in the saddest of fates, must we not, Elizabeth? Have you seen your nephew today? I arrive to find that he has already been christened Ethan, imagine. The image of your poor brother, I would say. Kitty, you should not be out of bed, but I suppose you might come and sit with us for a few moments. This is your affair, after all."