Mary sighed deeply. Douglas watched her face, so like Judith's but bearing tragic lines it would have broken his heart to see around Judith's young lips. With unwonted gentleness he leaned over to put his hand on Mary's while he smiled at her half sadly.
"Poor Mother! We are an ornery lot! But you are as good as gold, and Jude and I both know it!"
Quick tears stung Mary's gray eyes. She lifted his hand to her cheek for a moment, then, as he drew it away, she tried to return his smile. But nothing more was said until they reached home.
Just as they entered the living-room, Judith rushed in,
"I hate Dad! I hate him! Scott and I were jogging home by way of the west trail as peaceful as anything when Dad has to come along and start a row going!"
"Anybody hurt?" asked Douglas, watching Judith as she sat down on the edge of her bed, big tears on her cheeks.
"No, but no thanks to Dad! Scott turned round and left because I asked him to. There's Dad now!"
John clanked in, but before he could speak Judith rose and shook her forefinger in his face.
"Now, Dad," she said steadily, "there's going to be no rowing and no cursing. I'm sick of it! Right here and now I warn you to stop interfering with me or I'll leave!"
John raised his ready fist.