Knightly wanted more of his story told, so I wrote this. Enjoy!

Chapter Two

"George! What are you doing here?" My brother John was walking across the university campus, a place I had left behind since our Father's health had taken a downward turn over the summer.

"John, I must talk to you." John's face whitened as he took in the tone of my voice.

"George?" The hand on my sleeve stopped my motion, but the look on his face stopped my heart. It was a look he had given me frequently as a young boy when one of his toys broke or after he fell off his horse David. A look that begged me to make everything better. But there was no better this time.

"Yesterday John." I said in answer to his unspoken question. "I set out only an hour after he passed."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

I have buried my Father.

My Father.

But he was more; Father, Landlord, Judge... Oh God!

This is now my role!

What will I, how...

"George? George!" Why is John hissing at me?

"Walk George." Walk? Why?

Oh, walk!

I turned away from the grave and looked for the pastor. He was already standing by the gate, so I moved quickly.

"Thank you." I said softly.

"God be with you, Mr. Knightly."

Mr. Knightly, I am now Mr. Knightly.

Oh God!

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Numbness is an unique feeling, all the outward senses stop relaying stimuli till all that remains is a disconnected conscious. This consciousness is then muffled 'til all that is left is a glint of recognition.

The only thing I could see was the child on the floor playing with her doll. I could hear voices talking, but they were not important.

"And did many people come, John?"

"Yes Mother. A good number."

"Did Rev. Bates speak well?"

"Very well indeed, Isabelle. His remorse was truly moving. Don't you agree George?"

The child has such a tender way with the doll.

"Don't cry Betsy. You must be a big girl like me."

So the doll is Betsy.

"Yes, well... Moving. Yes."

"Was there anything else John?

"Ah, your Husband was quite supportive, Mrs. Woodhouse."

What is she doing now?

"Thank you John. It is such a shame that he could not stay after, but I'm sure you are learning that a man's time is not as much of his own as he would wish."

"Yes Mrs. Woodhouse. I have learned something of that at university. Also from the letters I have exchanged with George these past months."

The child stood up and brushed at her dress before picking up the doll.

"Yes, George was such a help to his Father at the end..."

"Mother?"

"Stay here, John. I think I can be more of a comfort to her now."

"Thank you Mrs. Woodhouse."

The child was slowly walking around the edge of the rug; one foot on, one foot off.

I could tell there was a shift in the room, someone had left.

"You are bearing up then John?"

"Now, when George first came with the news I was quite shocked. I don't remember the trip back at all."

"And your brother?"

"He was a rock until the very end of the service. I think, now that all the duties have been done, he has allowed himself this... rest."

Now what is she doing? Should she be removing that ribbon from her hair?

"This is my best ribbon."

"So it is." The numbness recedes a little.

"Mama says that I am always happy when I wear it."

My head clears as I say, "Your Mama is a very wise woman."

She gently folds the ribbon twice, then holds it out to me, "You can have it. Then you'll be happy."

I look at the gift placed before me, Solomon had not such riches. "Thank you, Emma."