After grandfather went upstairs that night he realized that he was thirsty, and he came down again. The children were asleep, but their father and mother still sat talking on the porch. Grandfather had taken off his shoes and came upon them before they were aware.
"I don't see no use in his going," Henrietta was saying. "There ain't no room for him in the buggy with us and the children. Where'd we put him? And he saw the real war."
"But he's looked forward to it, Henrietta, he—"
"Well, would you have me stay at home, or would you have the children stay at home, or what?" Henrietta felt the burden of Grandfather Myers more every day. "He'll forget it anyhow in a few days. He forgets everything."
"Do you—do you—" They turned to see grandfather behind them. He held weakly to the side of the door. "Do you mean I ain't to go, Henrietta?"
It did not occur to him to appeal to his son.
"I don't see how you can," answered Henrietta. She was sorry he had heard. She meant to have John tell him gently the next day. "There is only the buggy, and if John goes and I and the children—it's you have made them so anxious to go."
"But—" Grandfather ignored the meanness of the excuse. "But couldn't we take the wagon?"
"The wagon? To Gettysburg? With the whole country looking on? I guess they'd think John was getting along fine if we went in the wagon." Henrietta was glad to have so foolish a speech to answer as it deserved. "Why, grandfather!"
"Then"—grandfather's brain, which had of late moved more and more slowly, was suddenly quickened—"then let me drive the wagon and you can go in the buggy. I can drive Harry and nobody'll know I belong to you, and—"
"Let you drive round with all them horses and the shooting and everything!" exclaimed Henrietta.
"You might drive the buggy and take grandfather, and I could go in the wagon," he said.
"I don't go to Gettysburg without a man on such a day," said Henrietta firmly.
"But—" Grandfather interrupted his own sentence with a quavering laugh. Henrietta did not consider him a man!
Then he turned and went upstairs, forgetting his drink of water. He heard Henrietta's voice long afterward, and John's low answers. John wanted him to go, he did not blame John.
The next day he made a final plea. He followed John to the barn.