This was her hope, but she was not sure.

How could she be sure when she was so young and dependent?
It was almost her only solace to interpret Ephraim's silence by her own unbelief, and she rested her weary mind against her vague notions of Ephraim's support.
One August day Mrs.Croom drove with her husband to a distant funeral.
In the afternoon when the sunshine was falling upon the fields of maize, when the wind was busy setting their ribbon-like leaves flapping, and rocking the tree-tops, Ephraim Croom was disturbed in his private room by the blustering entrance of Susannah.
The room was an attic; the windows of the gable looked west; slanting windows in the shingle roof looked north and south.

The room was large and square, spare of furniture, lined with books.

At a square table in the centre sat Ephraim.
When Susannah entered a gust of wind came with her.

The handkerchief folded across her bosom was blown awry.