"No such thing," argued Waldstricker, glad of an opportunity to air his favorite theory. "Now Helen thinks the child's spoiled because she drops on the floor and kicks and cries until she gets what she wants. I tell her it's human nature, and perfectly right for my child to have her own way. Thank God, there's nothing in the world she can't have."
Then looking from Frederick to his sister, he made a heavy attempt to be humorous.
"What's the matter of you two? You've been married longer than Helen and I. When are you going to start your family?"
Frederick maintained his pose of bored unconcern and an angry flush mounted to Madelene's face.
"You think you're smart, Eb," she retorted. "Fred's all the baby I can look after, and goodness knows he's trouble enough!"
"But, now, you're here, dear," Mrs. Waldstricker extended the olive branch again, "we'll help you look after him.... I do hope the weather'll clear so we can get out. The lake's been simply beautiful this summer."
"Just after I returned from Europe, I tried to dispossess Deforrest," Ebenezer told Fred, "but he beat me in court. I wanted to clean up the scandalous mess. I felt he was breaking God's law in harboring a woman of that kind. But I'm only biding my time." His voice sank as he cast his eyes slowly from one to another, at last, fixing them ominously upon his wife. "Biding my time," he growled deeply, laying his napkin on the table.
The gloom of his manner spread over the diners like a cloud. Helen's face expressed consternation; Frederick's discouragement, and Madelene's impatience.
"I must say this is pleasant," snapped Mrs. Graves. "Ebbie, I forbid you to speak of those people again tonight."
Helen made a little move as though to rise. In her capacity as peacemaker, it seemed advisable to change the scene of hostilities.