Since the day of the first visit there had always been in Pennyroyal a small number of women headed by Mrs. Dr. Webb who were not so manifestly unfavourable to Emily, but according to report they had lately been most unmercifully snubbed and put down by Mrs. Barrows, who would allow no one else inside the cabin and actually barred other ministering angels from the door.

Hearing word of the approach of these ladies one morning through Emily's coloured maid, Susan came forth into the clearing to meet them and stood waiting as usual with one hand resting on each sharp hip. Then before any other mouth could be opened hers was at work.

"I am powerful glad, Maria Webb, that you have had a change of heart toward the poor young girl," she commenced, "but you needn't try now to be gettin' inside her home after havin' so long kep' her out of your own. Besides, she's too sick to see no one 'cept the doctor and me. Doctor Webb says she's real ill with chills and fever 'cause papaw trees won't flourish 'ceptin' where it's damp, but I call it human ague the child's got. Talkin' about millstones hung about your neck, they're necklaces compared to the way women tries to drag down other women when they start in to do something a mite different."

And this intense irritation of Mrs. Barrows showing itself thus to her female friends even extended to her comparatively favoured next door neighbour, although Ambrose could not understand the cause. Emily of course had taken Susan into her confidence and she was a natural dramatist and yet why should she positively glare at him one evening as he stood snipping the dead stalks from the rose bushes in his yard?

Indeed her disapproval was so evident that Ambrose straightening up asked in amazement: "Whatever have I done, Susan?"

"Ain't it about time you was inquirin' concernin' Miss Dunham?" Susan demanded; "you're 'most the only person now in Pennyrile that ain't, and ef there's one thing I more'n another nacherally despise it's folks proppin' up a thing when it's standin' firm and don't need help, and then beginnin' to ease off when mebbe it's likely to fall."

"How is Miss Dunham?" Ambrose queried, and the older woman gave him a curious look. "She ain't dyin' sick yet, Doctor Webb says, but it's worse 'n he thought, 'cause it ain't plain chills and fever; mebbe it's the typhoids."

At this information Ambrose paled slightly, but when his neighbour had disappeared into her house for fresh clothes and supplies his expression grew more peaceful.

"Em'ly's turnin' out a lot better actress 'n I thought," he said to himself. "I wasn't figurin' on her play actin' so long."

He was leaning on his rake, having suddenly lost every atom of energy, when Susan, passing out again, dealt him another blow.