Ellen's cheek lost its bright color. She was not an analyst of character and she had never looked forward to Millie's future and prophesied, "Thus she will become."
"Come in," said Millie as though in defiance of a critical eye.
Ellen saw a solemn little Matthew sitting on the floor and a much smaller John in a cradle which was none too tidy. She saw, also, without looking at them directly, a littered sink, a soiled table-cover, an unblacked stove, and windows unwashed for weeks. Looking at little Matthew she began to tremble, remembering how her arms had once ached to hold him.
"Matthew is a big boy. And what a lovely baby!"
Millie's maternal ecstasy had burned itself to a dull flame.
"Perhaps you wouldn't think so if you had to take care of him day and night!"
She accepted Ellen's offer of help with an air which said that since she was going to stay it was no more than right that she should lend a hand, and Ellen bravely put on a soiled apron. Millie had had no one to talk to in the week of Esther's absence, and now the failings of Brother Reith were commented upon and much neighborhood gossip retailed.
"It's the women who run after him. They are partly to blame!" explained Millie.
When Matthew arrived he breathed a sigh of relief. He was sure that he had heard Millie laugh, though at sight of him she lost her good nature. She began to ask questions about Ellen's affairs and pried deeper than Matthew.
"How old is this man who is helping you, Ellen? Is he an old man?"