The parson caught the child’s arm.
“You leave me be!” Judith flashed, her white little teeth all bare.
“Do you go,” said the parson, coldly, “to the kitchen.”
“He’d better mind what he’s about!” Aunt Esther complained.
Elizabeth was now on her elbow, staring in alarm. Her breast was significantly heaving, and the great vein of her throat had begun to beat. “Don’t send she away, parson!” she pleaded. “She’s wantin’ her mother. Leave she be!”
The parson led Judith away.
“For God’s sake, parson,” Elizabeth gasped, “leave she come! What you goin’ t’ do with she?” She made as though to throw off the coverlet and follow; but she was unable, and fell back in exhaustion. “Judith!” she called. “Judith!”
The kitchen door was closed upon Judith; the obstacle had been removed.
“Don’t hurt she, parson,” Elizabeth entreated, seeming, now, to be possessed of a delusion concerning the parson’s purpose. “She’ve done no harm, sir. She’ve been a good child all her life.”