3695. This was a very dangerous question for Harriett to
attempt to answer in any kind of an honest way. Why is it that if we have a
secret grief, we can keep it hidden for years and never for an instant let our
sorrow show, and yet if we just once begin to utter the words aloud, describing
our pain to some friend, tears will rush to our eyes?
3696. I do not know that answer to that question, but
Harriett knew that she must not talk of her silly concern for her coach boy,
because if she did her obsession would be known to her friends, and hence, known
to everyone in the neighborhood.
3697. It was at that moment that her dead Aunt Marfa came to
her rescue. Having died, and having her death notice delivered at the critical
moment, Harriett was able to cast her sorrow onto the death notice, and avoid
at least for the moment, the coming catastrophe she faced.
3698. Harriett apologized for her abstraction, and then,
showing the note she held in her hand to her friends, she said, “I just
received a note saying that my dear Aunt Marfa has died after a tragic accident
in her home. She was so dear to me that it has me deeply upset.” With that she
rearranged the cards in her hand, took a deep breath, and prepared to continue
the card game.
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