Abstract
The last hard rays of a December sun still shone over Red Cloud when I rose to take my leave of the two gracious old ladies who had been Willa Gather's lifelong friends. The last words of the older sister, the Carrie, to whom Willa Cather had dedicated her My Antonia, still sounded in my ears and rather dimmed the amenities—the "thank-yous,” the "good-byes," the "come-agains."