They finished supper, and while Mattie cleared the table Ethan went to
look at the cows and then took a last turn about the house. The earth
lay dark under a muffled sky and the air was so still that now and then
he heard a lump of snow come thumping down from a tree far off on the
edge of the wood-lot.

When he returned to the kitchen Mattie had pushed up his chair to the
stove and seated herself near the lamp with a bit of sewing. The scene
was just as he had dreamed of it that morning. He sat down, drew his
pipe from his pocket and stretched his feet to the glow. His hard day's
work in the keen air made him feel at once lazy and light of mood, and
he had a confused sense of being in another world, where all was warmth
and harmony and time could bring no change. The only drawback to his
complete well-being was the fact that he could not see Mattie from where
he sat; but he was too indolent to move and after a moment he said:
"Come over here and sit by the stove."

Zeena's empty rocking-chair stood facing him. Mattie rose obediently,
and seated herself in it. As her young brown head detached itself
against the patch-work cushion that habitually framed his wife's gaunt
countenance, Ethan had a momentary shock. It was almost as if the other
face, the face of the superseded woman, had obliterated that of the
intruder. After a moment Mattie seemed to be affected by the same sense
of constraint. She changed her position, leaning forward to bend her
head above her work, so that he saw only the foreshortened tip of her
nose and the streak of red in her hair; then she slipped to her feet,
saying "I can't see to sew," and went back to her chair by the lamp.

Ethan made a pretext of getting up to replenish the stove, and when he
returned to his seat he pushed it sideways that he might get a view of
her profile and of the lamplight falling on her hands. The cat, who
had been a puzzled observer of these unusual movements, jumped up into
Zeena's chair, rolled itself into a ball, and lay watching them with
narrowed eyes.

Deep quiet sank on the room. The clock ticked above the dresser, a piece
of charred wood fell now and then in the stove, and the faint sharp
scent of the geraniums mingled with the odour of Ethan's smoke, which
began to throw a blue haze about the lamp and to hang its greyish
cobwebs in the shadowy corners of the room.

All constraint had vanished between the two, and they began to talk
easily and simply. They spoke of every-day things, of the prospect
of snow, of the next church sociable, of the loves and quarrels of
Starkfield. The commonplace nature of what they said produced in Ethan
an illusion of long-established intimacy which no outburst of emotion
could have given, and he set his imagination adrift on the fiction that
they had always spent their evenings thus and would always go on doing
so...

"This is the night we were to have gone coasting, Matt," he said at
length, with the rich sense, as he spoke, that they could go on any
other night they chose, since they had all time before them.

She smiled back at him. "I guess you forgot!"

"No, I didn't forget; but it's as dark as Egypt outdoors. We might go
to-morrow if there's a moon."

She laughed with pleasure, her head tilted back, the lamplight sparkling
on her lips and teeth. "That would be lovely, Ethan!"

He kept his eyes fixed on her, marvelling at the way her face changed
with each turn of their talk, like a wheat-field under a summer breeze.
It was intoxicating to find such magic in his clumsy words, and he
longed to try new ways of using it.

"Would you be scared to go down the Corbury road with me on a night like
this?" he asked.

Her cheeks burned redder. "I ain't any more scared than you are!"

"Well, I'd be scared, then; I wouldn't do it. That's an ugly corner down
by the big elm. If a fellow didn't keep his eyes open he'd go plumb into
it." He luxuriated in the sense of protection and authority which his
words conveyed. To prolong and intensify the feeling he added: "I guess
we're well enough here."

She let her lids sink slowly, in the way he loved. "Yes, we're well
enough here," she sighed.

Her tone was so sweet that he took the pipe from his mouth and drew his
chair up to the table. Leaning forward, he touched the farther end of
the strip of brown stuff that she was hemming. "Say, Matt," he began
with a smile, "what do you think I saw under the Varnum spruces, coming
along home just now? I saw a friend of yours getting kissed."

The words had been on his tongue all the evening, but now that he had
spoken them they struck him as inexpressibly vulgar and out of place.

Mattie blushed to the roots of her hair and pulled her needle rapidly
twice or thrice through her work, insensibly drawing the end of it away
from him. "I suppose it was Ruth and Ned," she said in a low voice, as
though he had suddenly touched on something grave.

Ethan had imagined that his allusion might open the way to the accepted
pleasantries, and these perhaps in turn to a harmless caress, if only
a mere touch on her hand. But now he felt as if her blush had set a
flaming guard about her. He supposed it was his natural awkwardness that
made him feel so. He knew that most young men made nothing at all of
giving a pretty girl a kiss, and he remembered that the night before,
when he had put his arm about Mattie, she had not resisted. But that had
been out-of-doors, under the open irresponsible night. Now, in the warm
lamplit room, with all its ancient implications of conformity and order,
she seemed infinitely farther away from him and more unapproachable.

To ease his constraint he said: "I suppose they'll be setting a date
before long."

"Yes. I shouldn't wonder if they got married some time along in the
summer." She pronounced the word married as if her voice caressed it.
It seemed a rustling covert leading to enchanted glades. A pang shot
through Ethan, and he said, twisting away from her in his chair: "It'll
be your turn next, I wouldn't wonder."

She laughed a little uncertainly. "Why do you keep on saying that?"

He echoed her laugh. "I guess I do it to get used to the idea."

He drew up to the table again and she sewed on in silence, with dropped
lashes, while he sat in fascinated contemplation of the way in which her
hands went up and down above the strip of stuff, just as he had seen
a pair of birds make short perpendicular flights over a nest they were
building. At length, without turning her head or lifting her lids, she
said in a low tone: "It's not because you think Zeena's got anything
against me, is it?"

His former dread started up full-armed at the suggestion. "Why, what do
you mean?" he stammered.

She raised distressed eyes to his, her work dropping on the table
between them. "I don't know. I thought last night she seemed to have."

"I'd like to know what," he growled.

"Nobody can tell with Zeena." It was the first time they had ever spoken
so openly of her attitude toward Mattie, and the repetition of the name
seemed to carry it to the farther corners of the room and send it back
to them in long repercussions of sound. Mattie waited, as if to give the
echo time to drop, and then went on: "She hasn't said anything to you?"

He shook his head. "No, not a word."

She tossed the hair back from her forehead with a laugh. "I guess I'm
just nervous, then. I'm not going to think about it any more."

"Oh, no--don't let's think about it, Matt!"

The sudden heat of his tone made her colour mount again, not with
a rush, but gradually, delicately, like the reflection of a thought
stealing slowly across her heart. She sat silent, her hands clasped on
her work, and it seemed to him that a warm current flowed toward
him along the strip of stuff that still lay unrolled between them.
Cautiously he slid his hand palm-downward along the table till his
finger-tips touched the end of the stuff. A faint vibration of her
lashes seemed to show that she was aware of his gesture, and that it had
sent a counter-current back to her; and she let her hands lie motionless
on the other end of the strip.

As they sat thus he heard a sound behind him and turned his head. The
cat had jumped from Zeena's chair to dart at a mouse in the wainscot,
and as a result of the sudden movement the empty chair had set up a
spectral rocking.

"She'll be rocking in it herself this time to-morrow," Ethan thought.
"I've been in a dream, and this is the only evening we'll ever have
together." The return to reality was as painful as the return to
consciousness after taking an anaesthetic. His body and brain ached with
indescribable weariness, and he could think of nothing to say or to do
that should arrest the mad flight of the moments.

His alteration of mood seemed to have communicated itself to Mattie. She
looked up at him languidly, as though her lids were weighted with sleep
and it cost her an effort to raise them. Her glance fell on his hand,
which now completely covered the end of her work and grasped it as if it
were a part of herself. He saw a scarcely perceptible tremor cross her
face, and without knowing what he did he stooped his head and kissed
the bit of stuff in his hold. As his lips rested on it he felt it glide
slowly from beneath them, and saw that Mattie had risen and was silently
rolling up her work. She fastened it with a pin, and then, finding
her thimble and scissors, put them with the roll of stuff into the
box covered with fancy paper which he had once brought to her from
Bettsbridge.

He stood up also, looking vaguely about the room. The clock above the
dresser struck eleven.

"Is the fire all right?" she asked in a low voice.

He opened the door of the stove and poked aimlessly at the embers. When
he raised himself again he saw that she was dragging toward the stove
the old soap-box lined with carpet in which the cat made its bed. Then
she recrossed the floor and lifted two of the geranium pots in her arms,
moving them away from the cold window. He followed her and brought the
other geraniums, the hyacinth bulbs in a cracked custard bowl and the
German ivy trained over an old croquet hoop.

When these nightly duties were performed there was nothing left to do
but to bring in the tin candlestick from the passage, light the candle
and blow out the lamp. Ethan put the candlestick in Mattie's hand and
she went out of the kitchen ahead of him, the light that she carried
before her making her dark hair look like a drift of mist on the moon.

"Good night, Matt," he said as she put her foot on the first step of the
stairs.

She turned and looked at him a moment. "Good night, Ethan," she
answered, and went up.

When the door of her room had closed on her he remembered that he had
not even touched her hand.

Ethan and Mattie settle down for a quiet night by the fire, Ethan with his pipe and Mattie with some sewing. Ethan can't see Mattie from his position by the fire, so he invites her to sit in Zeena's rocking chair. When she sits there, Ethan thinks for a moment that he sees Zeena's face in place of Mattie's. Mattie also seems uncomfortable with the spot, and she soon returns to her place at the table, pleading that the firelight is not bright enough for needlework. At first, the conversation seems to go easily. They talk about the goings-on in town, and they discuss the possibility of sledding some night. Ethan pulls his chair up to Mattie's table. The conversation becomes awkward; Ethan brings up Ned and Ruth in hopes that talk of the young couple will somehow open up a chance for a soft touch. It doesn't work; the conversation turns to Mattie leaving someday, and Mattie worries that Zeena is displeased with her. She worries that Zeena will force her to leave. Ethan expresses his dismay at the idea of Mattie's departure, and his earnestness makes Mattie blush. The cat, which has been sitting in Zeena's chair, jumps down to chase a mouse. The leap sets Zeena's chair rocking, reminding Ethan that Zeena will be sitting there by tomorrow evening. At the table, he touches the end of the cloth that Mattie is sewing. He holds it firmly in his hand, and then it brings it to his lips for a gentle kiss. Mattie quickly rolls up her work. They both do the last nightly chores and go to bed, each in their separate bedrooms. Ethan reflects that he never once touched her.

Passion is blocked by guilt and the power of the environment. The room stifles any romantic possibility: "Now, in the warm lamplit room, with all its ancient implications of conformity and order, she seemed infinitely farther away from him and more unapproachable". Ethan indulges in the fantasy that he and Mattie live as man and wife. For a brief moment, their simple conversation together sustains his fantasy; it as if they had the leisure to speak so easily every night. But while Ethan fantasizes that this room is his and Mattie's, the room begins to remind him that it belongs to Ethan and Zeena. Domestic order and conformity, symbolized by the room, prove too strong for Ethan's passionate impulses. Ethan's guilt makes him see Zeena's presence everywhere. When Mattie sits down in Zeena's chair, Ethan believes that Mattie has Zeena's face. The brief illusion is enough to make him very uneasy, and Mattie's discomfort with taking her cousin's place forces her back to the table. The cat leaping down from the rocking chair sets the chair into motion, immediately reminding Ethan of Zeena's impending return. The cat-and-mouse chase also parallels the game Ethan is playing. He is trying to learn Mattie's feelings, but he is too restrained to be direct; he has to bait her, bring up conversation topics that might make her reveal herself. The cat chasing the mouse also makes for a somewhat sinister atmosphere. The mouse hunt bridges the gap between the domestic space and the world of hunter and prey, reminding us that there is no real division between humans and the world of Darwin. The smallest hint of passion is immediately strangled. Ethan's move is small, but unmistakable. In kissing the cloth that Mattie is sewing, he crosses the line. Mattie rolls up her things and gets ready for bed. She does not scold him, and when he bids her good night she answers him kindly. But she is too scared by even this small gesture of affection; adultery is too frightening a step to take, especially because Mattie will have nowhere to go if forced to leave the Frome farm. Society's strictures and the burden of Mattie's poverty make transgression unthinkable

The meal is over. Mattie cleans up and Ethan does the final chores. The snow is coming down hard. The scene is just as he imagined it. Mattie by the fire, sewing, and he is now puffing the pipe, stretching the hard-working legs. Ethan can't see Mattie where she's sitting so he suggests that she sit in Zeena's chair. Actually Mattie gets up and sits in the chair. This turns out to a bad idea. It's almost as if as if Mattie turns into Zeena. Mattie also seems to feel uncomfortable about this arrangement and goes back to her initial position. Ethan steals glances at her from his spot. The cat takes over Zeena's chair. As the quiet sets in they relax and talk. Ethan reminds Mattie that they had a coasting date for tonight. Because there is no moon, they decide to postpone sledding for the following evening. Mattie is blushing furiously. Ethan asks her if she would be too afraid to sled with him on a moonless night. She says she's scared of nothing. He says that he is actually afraid. Sledding on a moonless night is a good way to die. In the dark there is no way to see the killer elm tree. Ethan decides to tell Mattie that he saw Ruth being kissed. All night he'd wanted to tell her, but regret was instant. It sounded rough and rude, and triggered more intense blushing from Mattie. She guesses quietly that he'd seen Ruth and Ned. Ethan had hoped he might get a kiss of his own that way, though he would have settled for the touch of her hand. His comments seem to have had the opposite effect. Ethan thinks he's unusually shy about these kinds of things. When they were in the open air together they were more free than now that they're indoors. Mattie and Ethan talk about Ned and Ruth, and how they are planning a summer wedding. Ethan then suggests that Mattie will be the next to wed. She wants to know why he keeps bringing that up. He says it's to help the reality of it sink in for him. Could it also be because Zeena has a problem with me? Mattie wants to know. Ethan seems irritated by her question and asks what she's talking about. She brings up Zeena's behavior the night before. Well, Ethan says he can't imagine why Zeena might have a problem with Mattie. This isn't reassuring to Mattie, and wants to know if Zeena said anything to Ethan about her. Ethan tries to reassure Mattie that Zeena has not said anything. He then begs her, tenderly, to change the topic. More blushing. The cat jumps out of Zeena's chair in pursuit of a mouse. On the coffee table rests the end of the piece of cloth Mattie is sewing. Ethan touches it and they seem to have some kind of psychic communication through the cloth. An image of Zeena back in her chair the next day captures Ethan. Mattie seems to pick up his anxiety over this. So Ethan, in a daze, kisses the end of the piece of cloth, with his eyes closed. When he opens his eyes Mattie is rolling up the piece of cloth and preparing to leave the room. Together they bring the geranium flowers away from the windows so they don't get frozen in the night. Ethan's candle in her hand, Mattie goes up stairs, telling him good night. The sound of Mattie's door closing reminds Ethan that "he had not even touched her hand" .

Now, in the warm lamplit room, with all its ancient implications of conformity and order, she seemed infinitely farther away from him and more unapproachable. After supper, Mattie clears up while Ethan takes a last turn around the yard. He returns to the kitchen to find Mattie busy at her sewing. Taking up his pipe, he sits down contentedly by the stove. When Ethan calls Mattie in to join him, she sits in Zeena's rocking chair, and Ethan suddenly imagines the specter of Zeena's face to have appeared in place of Mattie's features. Perhaps sensing her companion's unease and feeling uneasy herself, Mattie returns to her station in the kitchen. In time, Ethan and Mattie's disquiet begins to melt away, and they begin a carefree conversation about everyday matters--including, once again, the possibility of going sledding on the next moonlit night. However, when Ethan brings up his sighting of Ned and Ruth kissing among the spruces, Mattie suddenly becomes silent. Once again, Ethan and Mattie find themselves avoiding the subject that is on both of their minds--their relationship. Ethan discusses Mattie's marriage prospects, and Mattie discusses Zeena's ill will toward her. Dismissing the subject of Zeena, they fall silent again, until Ethan boldly places his hand on the opposite end of the piece of cloth on which Mattie is working. Mattie, in recognition of this gesture, ceases her activity and waits. The stillness is interrupted by a clatter. Behind Ethan and Mattie, the cat has leapt from Zeena's rocking chair in pursuit of a stray mouse. This sudden reminder of Zeena oppresses Ethan, and he impulsively picks up his end of Mattie's sewing work and kisses it gently. As he does so, the fabric slips from his hold, and he looks up to see Mattie putting away her sewing kit for the evening. The clock strikes eleven. Mattie asks about the fire, and after straightening up the room, she lights a candle and blows out the lamp. As she prepares to climb the stairs, Ethan says goodnight to her, and she responds in kind. Ethan, hearing the door to her room pull shut, realizes that he has not even touched Mattie's hand during the course of the evening

In the midst of Ethan and Mattie's unspoken feelings for one another, Zeena seems almost supernaturally present. For example, when Mattie vacates Zeena's chair uneasily, it continues to rock for a few moments, as though Zeena has reoccupied it. The mischievous cat seems to represent its absent owner, doing everything in its power to remind Mattie and Ethan of their obligations to Zeena. The cat creates general chaos by hopping up into Zeena's seat at supper and upsetting the pickle dish; later, as if to solidify its role as Zeena's ambassador, the cat jumps up into her place and watches the would-be couple with suspicious eyes. Ethan himself introduces Zeena into the room when, as Mattie sits in Zeena's rocking chair, he mentally transposes Zeena's face onto Mattie's body. This act reveals Ethan's subconscious desires and fears--although he wishes for Mattie to assume a marital role with him, he also lives in anguished torment with regard to the consequences, which embody themselves fully in the fearful appearance of Zeena's ghostly visage. In the close confines of the familiar, lived-in room, Ethan feels trapped and paralyzed by a realm of conventions in which Mattie seems infinitely out of reach. His home carries associations of conformity, convention, and moral order, which stunt his and Mattie's conversation. This stilted conversation contrasts sharply with the free-flowing, easy conversation Ethan and Mattie enjoyed the evening before, during their nighttime walk. Ethan's attempt to overcome his shyness is, in a sense, conducted for its own sake, in revolt against the societal strictures that limit him. In the unshakable silence, Ethan's shy kiss of Mattie's sewing work is a strictly symbolic gesture, a desperate attempt to act on his emotions--to prove to himself that he is capable of doing so. When Mattie blushes at the mention of Ruth and Ned as lovers, she acknowledges the sexual tension between herself and Ethan, yet she too feels powerless to take any real action. The subject of sledding is raised a second time in Chapter V, and again it is associated with death. "There's an ugly corner down by the big elm," Ethan says. "If a fellow didn't keep his eyes open he'd go plumb into it." This assessment is foreshadowing with a vengeance, since the story ends with Mattie and Ethan sledding into that same tree, and Wharton almost seems to be hammering the reader over the head with the information. Jotham Powell's presence at breakfast in the morning tempers the tension between Ethan and Mattie. Not only is Jotham another body in the room, but, as Ethan's hired hand, Jotham symbolizes the workaday world that stands between Ethan and his dream. Significantly, during Ethan's village journey of the previous afternoon, it is Powell, not Denis Eady, who visits Mattie after delivering Zeena to her train. Eady has been positioned several times as a possible obstacle to a union between Mattie and Ethan, but the true obstacle is not some intrigue on Mattie's part, but the everyday world. If Mattie is unreachable, the reason is not, as Ethan fantasizes, Denis Eady. Powell's neutralizing presence, so unwanted during Zeena's absence, suddenly becomes desirable to Ethan after his wife's return. For this reason, Ethan extends a dinner invitation to Powell, hoping to diffuse the tension between him and the two women. Powell's puzzlingly abrupt refusal adds an air of impending disaster to the upcoming meal. The total change in the household's atmosphere is further registered when Mattie speaks again: her simple statement that she supposes it is time for supper bears an entirely different set of nuances than the same words held only twenty-four hours before.

Mattie clears up the dinner table, and Ethan takes a look at his cows and his farm in the falling night. When he returns to the kitchen, he expects that he and Mattie will sit by the fire and talk. He gets his pipe out and settles into a world of comfort and harmony, except that he cannot see Mattie from where he is sitting. He calls and asks her to sit by him. She comes in and sits in Zeena's rocking chair, which shocks Ethan. Mattie cannot see to do her sewing, so she leaves again. Ethan gets up to replenish the stove and moves his chair so he can see Mattie. The room is quiet and smells of Ethan's smoke. They begin to talk and, though it is common stuff, Ethan's imagination tells him that he and Mattie are long-time intimates. Ethan remembers that they were to go coasting, but feels they have all the time in the world to do so. He tells Mattie that maybe they will go tomorrow when there is a moon. Mattie likes the idea. He watches her and asks if she would be afraid to go with him on a dark night like the present one. She says no, but he says he wouldn't dare it, not with that dangerous elm tree by the corner. They agree that they are well enough where they are. Ethan leans forward and fingers the fabric Mattie is working on. He tells her that he saw a friend of hers getting kissed under the spruce trees. He has wanted to tell her this, but the words come out sounding vulgar. Mattie blushes and unconsciously pulls away from him. Her blush is attractive to Ethan, and he has thoughts of kissing her; but to kiss her in the house, ruled by order and conformity, is more difficult than it would have been the night before, under the "irresponsible" dark sky. The two talk of Ned and Ruth's wedding, until Ethan points out that it should be Mattie's turn to marry next. Mattie asks why he is always saying such things. Ethan says he mentions it because he has to get used to the idea. Mattie wonders if Zeena is displease with her performance; Ethan lies and says that Zeena has never even uttered such an idea. Ethan slips his hand into the fabric Mattie is sewing, and he feels there is an emotional current between them. Then the cat jumps from Zeena's chair, and Ethan regrets that Zeena will be sitting in it the following night. The mood is broken, and Mattie rises and begins to fold up her work. She puts it away in a pretty box that Ethan has bought her. The two prepare to go upstairs for bed. They put the geraniums near the stove to keep warm, light the candle, and blow out the lamp. Mattie says goodnight and goes to her room. Ethan is sad that he did not even touch her hand.

Notes Chapter 5 is short and to the point: Ethan's fantasy is interrupted by the reality of the situation. The cat, representing the ever- watchful and silent Zeena, spoils the mood of the evening. In spite of their affection for one another, Ethan and Mattie feel constrained. The attempts at a "normal" evening at home together come across as a bit pathetic, and by the time they call it a night, the mood is almost mournful. It is important to notice that Ethan remembers his promise to take Mattie sledding. He says perhaps they can go the next day when the moon is bright. He adds that he would not want to go on a dark night because of the danger posed by the elm tree. Edith Wharton is definitely preparing the reader for the events that will occur later in the novel. It is also important to realize that at the end of Chapter 5, the mid point in the book, only twenty-four hours have passed in the story. Yesterday evening, the tale began when Ethan went into town to pick up Mattie from the dance.

After supper, Ethan and Mattie settle down in the kitchen for the evening. At first, Mattie sits out of sight of Ethan. Wanting to see her, he asks her to come and sit by the stove. She obediently takes a seat in Zeena's chair. Ethan has a momentary vision of his wife's head where Mattie's is. Mattie seems uncomfortable and, saying that she cannot see to sew, returns to her original seat. Ethan surreptitiously moves his chair so that he can see her. The cat once again sits in Zeena's chair and watches them. Ethan and Mattie chat easily and comfortably, and he fantasizes that they will go on spending their evenings like this. He suggests that they go sledding the following evening if there is a moon. She delightedly agrees. He asks her if she would be too scared to go down the slope with the elm at the bottom. She insists she would be no more scared than he would be. But he points out that he would be scared, as it would be easy to collide with the elm. Ethan tells Mattie that he on his way home, he saw a friend of hers getting kissed. Mattie blushes and seems guarded. He speculates about when Ned and Ruth will wed, and says it will be Mattie's turn next. Mattie asks why he keeps saying such things; he replies, to get him used to the idea. But Mattie feels that he is really referring to Zeena's desire to get rid of her. She is distressed, and they agree not to think about it. He touches the edge of the material she is sewing. He feels a warm current pass between them, and a faint movement of her eyelashes shows her awareness of his gesture. The moment is broken when the cat suddenly jumps off Zeena's rocking chair to chase a mouse, and sets the chair in ghostly motion. Ethan has the painful realization that Zeena will be rocking in it herself this time tomorrow, and feels now that this is the only evening he and Mattie will ever have together. He tenderly kisses the material he Is holding. As his lips rest on it, it glides from him, as Mattie rolls it up to put it away in the sewing box he had bought her. She finishes her nightly household duties and they retire to bed separately. He realizes that he has not even touched her hand.

. Ethan and Mattie's conversation about the dangerous elm at the bottom of the coasting slope is another example of foreshadowing their fate. Though at this point we do not know what finally happens to them, we know that Ethan ends up crippled. Mattie's comment - that she would be no more frightened to go down the slope than Ethan would be - can be taken as an obscure way of saying that she would be willing to meet him half-way in their illicit relationship. Because we know how dangerous the slope is, there is an undercurrent of recklessness in this exchange that applies equally to the sledding and to their relationship. They are taking a risk in entertaining the possibility, though Ethan is at this point still pulling back, saying, "I wouldn't do it." . During their evening together - as Ethan thinks, the only one they will ever have - the spectral presence of Zeena still haunts them and breaks into their moment of tenderness. When the cat jumps off Zeena's chair in pursuit of the mouse, he sets it rocking as if she herself were rocking it. Ethan is reminded that at this time the following day, she will be there, and there is nothing he can do to "stop the mad flight of the moments." . While Mattie responds with carefully controlled warmth to Ethan's gesture of kissing her sewing material, the connection between them is broken by the cat's action in setting Zeena's chair rocking. Mattie immeditately slips the material from under Ethan's lips, rolls it up and puts it away. It is significant that she puts in the box he gave her - her attention is on him, but she cannot be open with her feelings and must keep them in a metaphorical 'box.' Then Mattie drags the cat's bed over to the stove, symbolically reaffirming Zeena's place at the hearth of the household. Mattie and Ethan depart separately to their own bedrooms. Modern readers will be struck by the tight control over expression of feeling, uncharacteristic of today, and the consequently extreme significance of the tiniest gestures and smallest motions of the body. Wharton was writing in an age where the stigma attached to illicit relationships was great, and that of divorce even greater. She knew this at first hand, as she wrote Ethan Frome when she was trapped in an unhappy marriage to a mentally unstable man  and having a passionate affair. As is clear from the episode when Ned Hale and Ruth are embarrassed by Ethan's seeing them kissing, even displays of affection within a regular courtship were not considered quite decent.


The next morning at breakfast Jotham Powell was between them, and Ethan
tried to hide his joy under an air of exaggerated indifference, lounging
back in his chair to throw scraps to the cat, growling at the weather,
and not so much as offering to help Mattie when she rose to clear away
the dishes.

He did not know why he was so irrationally happy, for nothing was
changed in his life or hers. He had not even touched the tip of her
fingers or looked her full in the eyes. But their evening together had
given him a vision of what life at her side might be, and he was glad
now that he had done nothing to trouble the sweetness of the picture. He
had a fancy that she knew what had restrained him...

There was a last load of lumber to be hauled to the village, and Jotham
Powell--who did not work regularly for Ethan in winter--had "come round"
to help with the job. But a wet snow, melting to sleet, had fallen in
the night and turned the roads to glass. There was more wet in the air
and it seemed likely to both men that the weather would "milden" toward
afternoon and make the going safer. Ethan therefore proposed to his
assistant that they should load the sledge at the wood-lot, as they had
done on the previous morning, and put off the "teaming" to Starkfield
till later in the day. This plan had the advantage of enabling him to
send Jotham to the Flats after dinner to meet Zenobia, while he himself
took the lumber down to the village.

He told Jotham to go out and harness up the greys, and for a moment he
and Mattie had the kitchen to themselves. She had plunged the breakfast
dishes into a tin dish-pan and was bending above it with her slim arms
bared to the elbow, the steam from the hot water beading her forehead
and tightening her rough hair into little brown rings like the tendrils
on the traveller's joy.

Ethan stood looking at her, his heart in his throat. He wanted to say:
"We shall never be alone again like this." Instead, he reached down his
tobacco-pouch from a shelf of the dresser, put it into his pocket and
said: "I guess I can make out to be home for dinner."

She answered "All right, Ethan," and he heard her singing over the
dishes as he went.

As soon as the sledge was loaded he meant to send Jotham back to
the farm and hurry on foot into the village to buy the glue for the
pickle-dish. With ordinary luck he should have had time to carry out
this plan; but everything went wrong from the start. On the way over
to the wood-lot one of the greys slipped on a glare of ice and cut his
knee; and when they got him up again Jotham had to go back to the barn
for a strip of rag to bind the cut. Then, when the loading finally
began, a sleety rain was coming down once more, and the tree trunks were
so slippery that it took twice as long as usual to lift them and get
them in place on the sledge. It was what Jotham called a sour morning
for work, and the horses, shivering and stamping under their wet
blankets, seemed to like it as little as the men. It was long past the
dinner-hour when the job was done, and Ethan had to give up going to the
village because he wanted to lead the injured horse home and wash the
cut himself.

He thought that by starting out again with the lumber as soon as he had
finished his dinner he might get back to the farm with the glue before
Jotham and the old sorrel had had time to fetch Zenobia from the Flats;
but he knew the chance was a slight one. It turned on the state of
the roads and on the possible lateness of the Bettsbridge train.
He remembered afterward, with a grim flash of self-derision, what
importance he had attached to the weighing of these probabilities...

As soon as dinner was over he set out again for the wood-lot, not daring
to linger till Jotham Powell left. The hired man was still drying his
wet feet at the stove, and Ethan could only give Mattie a quick look as
he said beneath his breath: "I'll be back early."

He fancied that she nodded her comprehension; and with that scant solace
he had to trudge off through the rain.

He had driven his load half-way to the village when Jotham Powell
overtook him, urging the reluctant sorrel toward the Flats. "I'll have
to hurry up to do it," Ethan mused, as the sleigh dropped down ahead
of him over the dip of the school-house hill. He worked like ten at the
unloading, and when it was over hastened on to Michael Eady's for the
glue. Eady and his assistant were both "down street," and young Denis,
who seldom deigned to take their place, was lounging by the stove with
a knot of the golden youth of Starkfield. They hailed Ethan with ironic
compliment and offers of conviviality; but no one knew where to find
the glue. Ethan, consumed with the longing for a last moment alone with
Mattie, hung about impatiently while Denis made an ineffectual search in
the obscurer corners of the store.

"Looks as if we were all sold out. But if you'll wait around till the
old man comes along maybe he can put his hand on it."

"I'm obliged to you, but I'll try if I can get it down at Mrs. Homan's,"
Ethan answered, burning to be gone.

Denis's commercial instinct compelled him to aver on oath that what
Eady's store could not produce would never be found at the widow
Homan's; but Ethan, heedless of this boast, had already climbed to
the sledge and was driving on to the rival establishment. Here, after
considerable search, and sympathetic questions as to what he wanted
it for, and whether ordinary flour paste wouldn't do as well if she
couldn't find it, the widow Homan finally hunted down her solitary
bottle of glue to its hiding-place in a medley of cough-lozenges and
corset-laces.

"I hope Zeena ain't broken anything she sets store by," she called after
him as he turned the greys toward home.

The fitful bursts of sleet had changed into a steady rain and the horses
had heavy work even without a load behind them. Once or twice, hearing
sleigh-bells, Ethan turned his head, fancying that Zeena and Jotham
might overtake him; but the old sorrel was not in sight, and he set his
face against the rain and urged on his ponderous pair.

The barn was empty when the horses turned into it and, after giving them
the most perfunctory ministrations they had ever received from him, he
strode up to the house and pushed open the kitchen door.

Mattie was there alone, as he had pictured her. She was bending over a
pan on the stove; but at the sound of his step she turned with a start
and sprang to him.

"See, here, Matt, I've got some stuff to mend the dish with! Let me get
at it quick," he cried, waving the bottle in one hand while he put her
lightly aside; but she did not seem to hear him.

"Oh, Ethan--Zeena's come," she said in a whisper, clutching his sleeve.

They stood and stared at each other, pale as culprits.

"But the sorrel's not in the barn!" Ethan stammered.

"Jotham Powell brought some goods over from the Flats for his wife, and
he drove right on home with them," she explained.

He gazed blankly about the kitchen, which looked cold and squalid in the
rainy winter twilight.

"How is she?" he asked, dropping his voice to Mattie's whisper.

She looked away from him uncertainly. "I don't know. She went right up
to her room."

"She didn't say anything?"

"No."

Ethan let out his doubts in a low whistle and thrust the bottle back
into his pocket. "Don't fret; I'll come down and mend it in the night,"
he said. He pulled on his wet coat again and went back to the barn to
feed the greys.

While he was there Jotham Powell drove up with the sleigh, and when the
horses had been attended to Ethan said to him: "You might as well come
back up for a bite." He was not sorry to assure himself of Jotham's
neutralising presence at the supper table, for Zeena was always
"nervous" after a journey. But the hired man, though seldom loth to
accept a meal not included in his wages, opened his stiff jaws to answer
slowly: "I'm obliged to you, but I guess I'll go along back."

Ethan looked at him in surprise. "Better come up and dry off. Looks as
if there'd be something hot for supper."

Jotham's facial muscles were unmoved by this appeal and, his vocabulary
being limited, he merely repeated: "I guess I'll go along back."

To Ethan there was something vaguely ominous in this stolid rejection of
free food and warmth, and he wondered what had happened on the drive to
nerve Jotham to such stoicism. Perhaps Zeena had failed to see the new
doctor or had not liked his counsels: Ethan knew that in such cases
the first person she met was likely to be held responsible for her
grievance.

When he re-entered the kitchen the lamp lit up the same scene of shining
comfort as on the previous evening. The table had been as carefully
laid, a clear fire glowed in the stove, the cat dozed in its warmth, and
Mattie came forward carrying a plate of dough-nuts.

She and Ethan looked at each other in silence; then she said, as she had
said the night before: "I guess it's about time for supper."

Jotham Powell, the hired man, arrives early in the morning to help with the last of the lumber. All through breakfast, Ethan is inexplicably happy. Although nothing has changed, he feels like he has tasted what life would be like with Mattie. He plans to get the work done early enough so that he can buy some glue and fix the dish before Zeena arrives. But the work is hard going. Sleet makes the roads treacherous, and the logs are so slick that loading them takes much longer than usual. Ethan is unable to set out for town until late. He hopes to make it back before Jotham retrieves Zeena from the station, but in town he has trouble finding the glue. When his sleigh pulls back into the barn, Ethan sees that the sorrel isn't there and assumes that Zeena hasn't gotten home yet. He bursts into the kitchen, announcing proudly to Mattie that there is still time to fix the dish. She hushes him, whispering that Zeena has arrived. The sorrel isn't in the barn because Jotham Powell borrowed it to bring some supplies back to his house. Zeena has gone straight up to her bedroom, and has not emerged. When Jotham returns with the horse, Ethan invites him in for dinner. Jotham refuses, which makes Ethan curious: Jotham never turns down a meal. Zeena must be in a foul mood because of something that happened on her trip. Jotham leaves, and Ethan goes back inside the kitchen to find it ready for supper.

Chapter 6 continues with the theme of the environment's power over men. Nature makes Ethan's plans impossible; the sleet makes work arduous and slow, and two strong men fumble with the logs. The wet roads slow down his delivery, and chance circumstances make it difficult to find the glue. Ethan cannot make it back in time, but through no fault of his own. Throughout the novel, humans are unable to carry out their plans, great or small. Some chance event or natural occurrence blocks the human will at every turn. From Ethan's desire to leave town to the attempt to buy glue to the doomed passion between Ethan and Mattie, the novel is full of frustrated desires and unfulfilled plans

Jotham has breakfast with Mattie and Ethan, and Ethan tries to hide his joy at being in love by pretending to ignore Mattie. They'd had no physical contact, but a newer, fresher kind of life is now imaginable. In the light of day, Ethan is glad things didn't move to the physical level. He plans his heavy work day, and asks Jotham to pick up Zeena after the noon meal. A few precious moments are left for Mattie and Ethan to have some alone-time. Mattie is steamy from doing dishes. This might be there last time they are ever alone together Ethan wants to tell her. Instead he puts some chewing tobacco in his mouth. He'll try to be home for lunch. On his way out he hears that her whistle while she works. Everything goes wrong for Ethan during the day, and he doesn't have time to get the glue. After a quick bite with Jotham and Mattie , Ethan sets off for the glue. With difficulty he finds the only tube of glue in town and races back home to glue the dish. Through the sleet he races, trying to get home before Zeena. The horse is still absent from the stable when Ethan arrives on the scene. He enters the kitchen, finds Mattie alone, and excitedly presents her with the glue. Mattie gives him the horrible news. Zeena is already home. Jotham had driven the horse to another location, which is why it's absent from the barn. Mattie doesn't know how Zeena is because she didn't talk to her. Zeena is now in her room Ethan tries to soothe her, promising to fix the dish on the sly in the night. Soon Jotham shows up. Ethan invites him to dinner but he declines. Maybe Zeena was unhappy about something and had abused him on the ride. Back in the kitchen the scene is similar to the way it was last night: the fire, the sleeping cat, the doughnuts are all there as they were before. As last night, Mattie suggests that they eat.

At breakfast the following morning, Jotham Powell sits between Ethan and Mattie. Overnight, the wet snow has turned to sleet, creating poor road conditions and giving the men cause to load the remaining lumber at once, but delay their last actual haul until the afternoon. When Powell heads out to harness up the horses, Ethan and Mattie are left alone again, and Ethan has an urge to say, "We shall never be alone again like this. He stifles it, however, and settles for telling her that he will be home for dinner. In town, after unloading the lumber, Ethan heads to the Eady store in search of some glue to fix Zeena's broken dish, but he can't find any there. Ethan then hastily goes to the widow Homan's store, where, after a lengthy search, he finally finds a single bottle of glue. In a driving rain, Ethan pushes his team of horses furiously toward home. When he arrives, he puts them away without a thought and dashes into the kitchen. Ethan triumphantly announces to Mattie that he has obtained the glue, but his excitement quickly dissipates when Mattie whispers that Zeena has returned--she has headed upstairs to her room without so much as a word to Mattie. Out at the barn, while Ethan feeds the horses, Powell returns to put away the sleigh. Ethan invites him to stay for supper, but Powell declines. His refusal throws Ethan into a fit of unease, and he is filled with foreboding as he goes back inside, where Mattie tells him that dinner is ready.

The next morning, Ethan is quite happy because he has a vision of what life might be like with Mattie. His thoughts of her are interrupted by Jotham, who comes for breakfast; Ethan feels he must hide his happiness from him. Outside the weather is icy. Ethan decides that he and Jotham should spend the morning loading lumber so that when the weather clears in the afternoon Ethan can drive the lumber to town and Jotham can go and pick up Zeena. He tells Jotham to go and harness the horses, so that he can have a moment alone with Mattie. He watches her wash the dishes, her hair curling in the steam, and wants to say that they "shall never be alone like this again." Instead, he picks up his tobacco pouch and says he'll be home for dinner. She sings at her work. Ethan remembers that he wants to run to town to get glue for the pickle dish, but his morning goes badly. A horse gets injured, there is rain and sleet, and the work takes them long past the dinner hour. He knows he has only a slight chance of getting to town after dinner, before Jotham gets back with Zeena. When he leaves, he feels a comprehending nod from Mattie. He sets out in a hurry, but is overtaken by Jotham and then works extra hard to get the lumber unloaded. When he goes to Eady's store, Denis and his friends are sitting around by the stove, visiting, and no one really knows where to find the glue. He drives to Mrs. Homan's store; she has trouble finding her one bottle of glue, but finally locates it. As he hurries away, she says that she hopes Zeena has not broken anything important. Ethan drives his heavy rig through the rain, hoping to get back before Zeena and Jotham. He puts his horses in the empty barn and rushes into the house to tell Mattie that they have to quickly mend the dish, but Mattie informs him that Zeena is already home. They stare at each other in disappointment. It turns out that Jotham drove the horse to his house to deliver some goods for his wife. Ethan asks how Zeena is, but Mattie doesn't know since Zeena went to her room without a word. Ethan gives a low whistle, puts the glue in his pocket, and promises to mend the dish during the night. Jotham comes back, and Ethan asks him to stay for dinner. He likes the idea of Jotham's neutralizing presence at the table, for Zeena is usually fussy after a journey. Jotham, however, rejects the offer and even refuses to come inside and dry off. The rejections seem ominous to Ethan; he suspects that the doctor visit has not gone well. When Ethan returns to the kitchen, the scene is comfortable and looks very much like the previous night, except that Mattie and Ethan merely look at each other in silence.

Notes In this chapter, Ethan again fantasizes about Mattie, but his thoughts are interrupted by the reality around him. He has a difficult morning in the bad weather, and the gluing of the pickle dish becomes a threatening issue. At Eady's store, they cannot even locate any glue to sell him. At Mrs. Homan's store, he buys the last bottle of glue; she tells Ethan that she hopes that Zeena has not broken anything important. Ethan is fearful that she will tell everyone about the glue and her supposition. Then, Ethan's rush home is doomed. Although Zeena is not seen in this chapter, Jotham's refusal to stay and eat is a bad sign, an ominous warning.

Next morning, Ethan feels "irrationally happy," in spite of the fact that nothing happened between him and Mattie - or possibly, because of this: ".their evening together had given him a vision of what life at her side might be, and he was glad now that he had done nothing to trouble the sweetness of the picture." . Jotham Powell eats breakfast with Ethan and Mattie. The snow has melted enough to turn the roads to glass, and Ethan decides it will be safer to load the rest of the wood immediately but to delay taking it to Starkfield until the afternoon. He asks Jotham Powell to drive to the Flats after dinner to pick up Zeena, while he himself delivers the wood. While Jotham is harnessing the horses, Ethan looks tenderly at Mattie and wants to say, "We shall never be alone again like this." But all he says is that he will be home for dinner. . After loading the wood, Ethan goes to Michael Eady's store to buy some glue to mend the pickle dish, but cannot find any. Ethan rushes off to widow Honan's store, where he finds a single bottle of glue. Ethan drives home in the rain and hurries into his kitchen. Mattie starts at his entrance and tells him that Zeena has arrived back and has gone straight up to her room without a word. He tells her not to worry; he will come down in the night and mend the dish. . He goes out to feed the horses and meets Jotham. Ethan invites Jotham to dinner, thinking that his presence will help neutralize the atmosphere now that Zeena is back. Jotham uncharacteristically refuses. As Jotham departs, Ethan wonders uneasily why he refused the invitation. Perhaps Zeena had not had a successful visit with the doctor and had taken out her frustration on Jotham on the journey home. . When Ethan goes back into the kitchen, the table is set and the scene as welcoming as it was the previous evening. She and Ethan look at each other in silence. Mattie says, just as she had said then, "I guess it's about time for supper." .

. Critics have debated why Ethan does not touch Mattie or take their relationship further, and why he should be happy that he did not. However, his failure to act is consistent with how he has conducted his life thus far, subjugating his own ambitions and desires in a martyred existence looking after one invalid after another. Moreover, Ethan has become used to living his life not in the present moment, but in "dreams," "visions" and "fancies. " Perhaps he feels more comfortable in the realm of 'what could be' than in the realm of 'what is.' . This interpretation is reinforced by the repeated imagery of darkness, night and shadow that surrounds Ethan. For example, in Chapter 1, when he is waiting for Mattie to emerge from the bright dance hall , he retreats into the "darkness" and "shadows." In this chapter, he says he will come downstairs in the night and secretly mend the pickle dish, just as he used to sneak downstairs in the night to scrub the floor, thereby helping Mattie and covering for her inefficiency at housekeeping. . Jungian psychologists say that the shadow side of the psyche is the side which has been denied or buried by the conscious self and which has not been brought out into the 'light' of full conscious awareness. It therefore remains unfulfilled and must seek expression in roundabout 'unconscious' ways, such as dreams, visions, fantasies and secret impulses. In Ethan's life, most of what is real, heartfelt and vital lies suppressed and hidden. His comment to Mattie, that he guesses he will be home for dinner, when he had wanted to say that this would be the last time they would be alone, is an example. . Mattie's account of Zeena's arrival home and going straight up to her room without a word, followed by Jotham's refusal of the dinner invitation, create an air of foreboding. Though everything at supper appears to be just as it was when Zeena was away, and Mattie uses exactly the same words, "I guess it's about time for supper," we feel that something bad is about to happen.