Primrose had turned scarlet at her aunt's rebuke and Faith's scrutiny. After the silent blessing the supper was eaten quietly, Chloe coming in now and then to bring some dish or take away an empty one. And when they rose Faith led her grandmother out under the tree where she spent her half hour before bedtime, unless it rained. Rachel went in to Uncle Henry, and Lois took a careful supervision of the kitchen department, that did miss her steady oversight, though Rachel was very womanly.
Primrose sauntered out and sat down on the doorstep, feeling very strange and lonely, and resenting a little the knowledge of having been crowded out. Penn Morgan gave her a sharp look as he went out with the milking pail. There was still considerable work to do before bedtime.
When Rachel was released she took grandmother to bed. The window had been made secure with some slats nailed across, for she had been known to roam about in the night. Her room opened into that of Rachel's instead of the little hall, and the girl closed the door and put a small wedge above the latch so that it could not be opened.
James Henry had asked in a vague, feverish way if they had allowed Primrose to go back with her aunt.
"Why, no," answered Lois. "Wilt thou see her?"
"No, no! I cannot be disturbed. It is but right that she should come. Thou wilt no doubt find her head full of vagaries and worldliness. What can one do when the enemy sows tares? I cannot resign myself to letting them grow together."
"Yet so the Lord has bidden."
"Nay, we are to do our duty in the Lord's vineyard as well as in the fields. I uproot noxious weeds, or I should have fields overrun. And now that haying has begun I must lie here like a log and not even look out to see what is going on," and he groaned.
"But Andrew is almost like thyself, and Penn this two year hath managed for his mother. We must submit to the Lord's will. Think if I had lost thee, James, and men have been killed by a less mishap!"
James Henry sighed, unresigned.