His mood was still stern.

The multitudinous lift, and stir, and sheen of the wide, green field had been lost upon him.
"I wonder if she's milked them cows," he muttered to himself.

He gave a sigh of relief to find she had.

But she had done so not for his sake, but for the sake of the poor, patient dumb brutes.
When he went to the bedroom after supper, he found that the cradle and his wife's few little boxes and parcels--poor, pathetic properties!--had been removed to the garret, which they called a chamber, and he knew he was to sleep alone again.
"She'll git over it, I guess." He was very tired, but he didn't feel quite comfortable enough to sleep.

The air was oppressive.