"Papa asked him that, and he said because his business called him away so much."
"Who is Rathe?" I inquired, feeling somehow a growing enmity toward him.
"I don't know—no one does, I think; but that is nothing here where most people are strangers to each other, except as they are thrown together and so get acquainted," she answered, simply.
"What do you think of him?" I asked, feeling that if she liked him he must be all right. For every true woman has that strange knowledge of men that cannot go wrong, and so makes them a safe guide in such matters. Constance not answering, I added: "Or maybe you don't know him very well?"
"I have hardly seen him, and so ought not to judge," she answered, as if evading my inquiry.
Thinking of what she said, I braced myself to ask a question that had been on my lips since she told me I was in Appletop, but somehow, when I would have spoken, the words stuck in my throat, as medicine sometimes will. Now, because of Uncle Job's troubles, I determined to speak out, and so asked:
"Has Moth been here?"
"Yes; they had scarcely led your horse to the stable when he rode up to make inquiries; but papa, pretending to fly into a rage, cried out that if he ever spoke to him again or crossed his door he would have him ducked in the river for harassing you so"; and her face lighted at the recollection as if the remembrance pleased her greatly.
"What did Moth do then?"
"Oh, he took it in good part, saying he did not expect help, and that what he wanted was for your good, however others might view it. After lingering about the town for a few days he went away, believing, we think, that you had not come to Appletop; for no one except those we trust know you are here."