Ury seemed considerable tickled to have her back agin. And Josiah would whisper to me every chance he got,—
“That now she had got back to help him, it was Ury's turn to go, and there wuzn't nothin' fair in his not havin' a tower.” Josiah always stands up for his sect.
And I would answer him every time,—
“That if I lived, Philury and Ury should go off on a tower together, like human bein's.”
And Josiah would look cross and dissatisfied, and mutter somethin' about the milkin'. There was where the shoe pinched.
Wall, right when he was a mutterin' one day, Cicely got back from Washington. And he stopped lookin' cross, and looked placid, and sunshiny. That man thinks his eyes of Cicely, both of 'em; and so do I.
But I see that she looked fagged out.
And she told me how hard she had worked ever sence she had been gone. She had been to some of the biggest temperance meetin's, and had done every thing she could with her influence and her money. She was willin' to spend her money like rain-water, if it would help any.
But she said it seemed as if the powers against it was greater than ever, and she was heart-sick and weary.
She had had another letter from the executor, too, that worried her.