Note 64 — Chapter Thirty-nine

Coming into the home of my parents as she (Henriette) did, on the eve of Dave’s departure for Springfield, was nothing short of a blessing for Mother. From the first, Henriette fitted herself helpfully and synthetically into the life of the Igrotte farm. Mother was by no means easy to live around that winter. While you might never have guessed it from any outward demonstration, indeed, I doubt if she guessed it herself, my mother’s dependence upon Dave, what with all of us in homes of our own with interests of our own, was perhaps the motivating force of her whole existence. It was Henriette, I feel so sure, who saved her that winter from the throes of a nervous breakdown. I remember Father coming over one blustery winter evening, when he should never have ventured out, and begging me with ill-concealed tears in his bewildered old eyes to try and coax Mother to consent to a visit from Doctor Dan. As a matter of fact, all of us knew, Dave most of all, whose letters came to her regularly as clockwork, that what ailed Mother was heartache for Dave, who had never been absent from her side more than an overnight, in all his life.