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adding, “You’re doing a fine job. I’ll go down and get Mark out.”
    * * *
    MARK EMERGED FROM THE inner bowels of the Little Rock Police Station looking like it had been a rough night. His right ear was red and swollen, and he had evidently thrown up on his clothes. He looked all in all perfectly miserable. “Here he is, ma’am,” the officer grinned. “A little the worse for wear, but he’ll live.”
    “Thank you, officer. Come along, Mark. I’ve already paid your fine.”
    Mark had a hangdog expression. He said nothing, however, and when they were outside he became suddenly defiant. “I guess I’ll never hear the last of this. A Hayden in jail!”
    “I don’t think you’ll be hearing much about it.”
    “It wasn’t my fault. I was just having a drink and this fellow—”
    “You drive,” Kate interrupted as they stepped in the carriage.
    She waited until Mark had spoken to the horses and they had begun their journey homeward before she turned to face him, “Mark, you’re acting like a baby.”
    “I don’t want to hear any sermons, Aunt Kate.”
    “I don’t care what you want. Listen to me. You’ve never had any hard times, and now you’re having some. You’re not handling it well.”
    Mark ducked his head. “I know it,” he muttered, “but what am I going to do? I’m not fit for anything, Aunt Kate!”
    “Well, whatever is ahead of you won’t be handed to you on a silver platter. We’re all going to have a different kind of life, but that doesn’t mean it has to be bad.”
    Mark Hayden stared at his aunt. She had a steadiness about her, a calmness, that he envied. She alone of the family had known no anxiety or fear at all of what lay ahead. He started to say something but realized that whatever he said wouldn’t mean anything. “What did Father say about all this?”
    “He doesn’t know about it, and I don’t think he needs to unless you want to tell him yourself.”
    “I’ll do that. It would get back to him anyhow.”
    “It’s always best to face up to the truth. You’ve got to get home and clean up. Your father’s bringing a guest home for supper.”
    Mark stared at her in disbelief. “A guest for supper? What do you mean? I don’t think any of us are really in the mood for having jolly parties for guests.”
    “I don’t know who he is,” Kate said calmly, “but I want you to go home and clean yourself up and try to be a little bit more positive, encourage your sisters. You’re a man, Mark—so act like one!”
    * * *
    ALBERT BLANCHARD WAS IN his midfifties, approximately the same age as Leland. The two of them had been in college together, but it was obvious that Blanchard’s life had taken a different road. He was weathered, his face was deeply lined. His hands, they all saw, were hard with calluses. He was wearing a snuff brown suit and heavy boots that had not been polished in recent memory. He had a bushy beard that covered the lower part of his face, and his eyes were black and lively.He had a husky voice, and from time to time he would break into a slight stutter.
    Leland had introduced him as simply an old friend from his college days, and all of them were wondering why Leland had chosen to bring him home. It was the first guest they had had since the blow had fallen. Kate had plunged in at once and made a good supper. It consisted of thick fried pork chops, red potatoes, creamed peas and onions, fresh baked bread, and a variety of cheeses and fruit for dessert.
    They were having dinner in the smaller and less formal of the two dining rooms. After they had had their dessert, Leland leaned back and said, “I haven’t heard from Albert in a long time, but I got a letter from him a few months ago. In the letter he told me about a venture I might be interested in. I wasn’t interested at the time, but now I think I’d like for you to hear about it. Maybe you’d like to tell them about it, Al.”
    Al Blanchard brushed his whiskers back to take another sip