"Lois, you don't seem to have the slightest comprehension of the case—not the slightest," urged Mrs. Waterman, resenting the smile with which her sister had ended. "You brutally abandoned Phil; and now you come back to spoil her life. I didn't suppose there was a woman in the world so callous, so utterly without shame, so blindly selfish—"
Amzi paused in his stride across the room and planted himself belligerently before his oldest sister. His eyes bulged angrily.
"Josie, you can't talk like that to Lois; not in this house! I tell you, Lois is all right. If you don't like her, you can let her alone. I'm not going to have you talk to her like this—not here. Now I want you to understand, you, Josie; you, Kate; you, Fanny" (he indicated each in turn with his pudgy forefinger) "I wouldn't let her badger you, and I'm not going to let you jump on her."
"You talk like a fool, Amzi," said Mrs. Waterman, angry tears flashing in her eyes. "If you realized what we have always stood for in this community, and what it means to you as well as the rest of us; and poor little Phil, and all—"
"What have you all got to do with Phil? Phil's all right," he shouted hoarsely.
"I think," shot Mrs. Hastings, "that the easiest thing for Lois, and the best thing, is for her to go quietly without seeing Phil."
"That's my own opinion," affirmed Mrs. Fosdick.
Lois listened with her detached air, as though the subject under discussion related to some one she knew slightly but was not particularly interested in.
"Bless me! Such a wow and a wumpus. You really think I'd better go?" she asked casually.
The three, accepting this as a sign of yielding, chorused an eager, sibilant Yes.