But she put her hand on my mouth . `` It 's for the last time , Aunt Rachel . After to-day I can never talk of him , or even think of him . It 's four years since he went away . Do you remember how he looked , Aunt Rachel ? '' `` I mind well enough , I reckon , '' I said , kind of curt-like . And I did . Owen Blair had n't a face a body could forget -- that long face of his with its clean color and its eyes made to look love into a woman 's . When I thought of Mark Foster 's sallow skin and lank jaws I felt sick-like . Not that Mark was ugly -- he was just a common-looking fellow . `` He was so handsome , was n't he , Aunt Rachel ? '' my dearie went on , in that patient voice of hers . `` So tall and strong and handsome . I wish we had n't parted in anger . It was so foolish of us to quarrel . But it would have been all right if he had lived to come back . I know it would have been all right . I know he did n't carry any bitterness against me to his death . I thought once , Aunt Rachel , that I would go through life true to him , and then , over on the other side , I 'd meet him just as before , all his and his only . But it is n't to be . ''
`` Thanks to your stepma 's wheedling and XXXXX Foster 's scheming , '' said I. `` No , Mark did n't scheme , '' she said patiently .
Blair Foster Mark Rachel kind lank life right skin years