“Well, I did n't think to have such a lectur',” said the woman, affecting a feeling of good nature, “I say as I said afore, I meant no harm. I like Mr. and Mrs. Deane very much, and thought it was too bad for such things to be said.”
“Is marm here?” inquired a coarse voice at the door, and a red, chubby face was thrust in the narrow opening.
“Why, Josiah Turner, I told you ter go ter bed an hour ago. Well, I must go, Miss Evans. I 'spose my boy won't go without me,” and taking her son by the hand, she departed.
“A storm upon their domestic horizon, I fear, is coming, if not already there,” said Miss Evans, setting down and resting her lead upon her hands. “I wish he had not come. Something may be charged to me-but why should I fear. I have said simply what I felt was right. I must expect to encounter many storms in this voyage whose haven of peace is-where? None knoweth.”
She fastened her door, and after lifting her heart in prayer for guidance, retired.
Mr. Deane found his wife alone when he returned, and one could have seen by his manner how glad he was to find her so.
“It seems a month, Mabel, since I have seen you alone.”
She only remarked that she feared her parents felt his absence from home.
“I do think, Howard,” she continued, “that you could give us a little of your time. It is due to my parents. It must seem to them that you willingly absent yourself, and it is hard for me to convince them to the contrary.”
“I am sorry that any such impression should have worked its way into their minds. They ought to know that it is quite a sacrifice for me to devote myself so closely to business. I hope, Mabel, you are wrongly impressed as regards them, and it may be that your own state has more to do with it than theirs. This is the first evening I have had to myself since they have been here.”