Mrs. Hunter turned and went back to the kitchen. John came toward his
wife.

"What is it, John? What has happened?" she asked in a whisper. There was a
sick look on John Hunter's face.

Elizabeth did not put her hand on him as was her usual way. The girl-wife
had an indistinct feeling that her husband and his mother were a
combination for the moment of which she was not a part.

"Enough has happened," the man said, passing her and going toward their
bedroom. "Come in here!"

He held the door open for her to enter, and she passed in and stood
waiting while he shut it behind them.

"What is it, John?" she queried, unable to wait longer.

"Your father has gone to Colebyville and got into a drunken row," was the
bald statement. "Everybody in the country knows about his fuss with you."

He did not offer to touch her, but walked over to the window and began to
drum on the window-pane with nervous fingers.

"Drunk! Row! My father was never drunk in his life!" was the astonished
exclamation with which Elizabeth Hunter met this unbelievable accusation.

"Well, he's been drunk enough to last the rest of his life this time, and
we're the laughing stock of this whole country."

John Hunter had gone to Colebyville that morning in the new buggy, rather
pleased to be the centre of observation and remark. He quite liked to
swagger before these country people whom he chose otherwise to ignore. He
was well dressed, his buggy was the admired of all admirers, and he was
newly married. Country gossip had some pleasing qualifications. When he
had arrived at Colebyville, however, John Hunter had found that country
people had little ways of their own for the edification of the
vainglorious, and that trim young men in buggies became infinitely more
interesting to the scorned when they could be associated with scandal. He
soon found that he was the object of much amused discussion and shortly it
became evident that they were quite willing that he should know that he
was the object of ridicule. Pretending friendship, one of them enlightened
him as to the exact circumstances which were amusing them, and then
sneaked back to his companions with a verbatim report of his surprised
exclamations. John Hunter did not enjoy being the victim of a trap laid by
those he had patronized. It had been a humiliating day, and John Hunter
always handed his misfortunes along. He poured his disgust over his wife
as if she alone were responsible for all