ll you've a mind to; I ain't
worryin'"]

However, Uncle Ambrose simply put his arm around her, drawing her
closer to him. "Lord, Peachy, ef that's all, don't you fret. You kin
manage me now all you've a mind to; I ain't worryin'. I was young and
didn't understand then that no man kin git on comfortable in this world
'thout bein' managed by a _good_ woman." And he laughed and kissed her
with an ardour that was in its way as good a thing as the springtime.

A minute later, the light dying quickly down, the autumn moon rose up
above the orchard, and with the disappearance of the day the warmth
ended so abruptly that, with a little shiver, the two middle-aged
figures moved away, the woman watching the man anxiously. "It ain't
moonlight we're needin', Ambrose Thompson," she whispered; "I'm thinkin'
it's the light of the fireside."

PART IV

HIS FOURTH WIFE

"_There are diversities of gift, but the same spirit_"

CHAPTER XIX

"'LIZABETH"

A VERY old man leaned over, touching a cane-bottomed rocking chair with
his carpet slipper. "Seems sort er more sociable like to see a little
female chair a-rockin'," he remarked to himself, for the room was
otherwise unoccupied, and even the house itself.

It was a December night and snowing hard. By and by the old man got up,
and crossing over to a side window where the blind had not yet been
pulled down, stood there for a moment frowning and saying impatiently:
"Ef that don't beat all!" for mingling with the noises outside there
sounded a faint and monotonous crying.

He was an uncommonly tall old man with a head like a highly polished
billiard ball rising above a fringe of thin white hair; he had a
straggly beard, while over his dim blue eyes the eyebrows arched like
cornices.

Finally he shuffled back toward his place by the kitchen fire, and there
getting down the family Bible commenced to read, first stuffing both
fingers in his ears, although every now and then partially removing one
to make observations. He was reading the twenty-second chapter of St.
Matthew:

"For in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage,
but are as the angels of God in heaven." However, on the third reading
he shut up his book, keeping three bunches of pressed flowers inside to
mark the place, and half humorously and half with the irritability of
old age, sighed: "I don't feel as ef I could stand it a inch longer.
What mortal use is there in me tryi