now she'd be glad t' see a woman body
about once in a while."

"Wisht she'd die an' get out of th' way," Nathan Hornby said bitterly. "A
body could see Luther once in a while then 'thout havin' 'is words cut up
an' pasted together some new way for passin' round."

No one spoke, and Nathan felt called upon to defend his words.

"I don't care! It's a God's pity t' have a woman like that carry off th'
best man this country's ever had, an' then fix up every word 'is friends
says t' him so's t' make trouble."

Nathan's whole bitter longing for companionship was laid bare. Elizabeth's
eyes filled with tears; Elizabeth was lonely also.

The call was a short one. John moved early to go home and there was
nothing to do but give way. It was not till the next day that Elizabeth
suspected that Nathan's remarks had offended John Hunter, and then in
spite of her eagerness to keep the peace between the two men, she laughed
aloud. She was also somewhat amused at the insistence on a call upon Sadie
which John wanted that she should make. The perfect frankness of his
announcement that Luther was a convenient neighbour, and that they must
pay neighbourly attention to illness, when he had never encouraged her to
go for any other reason, was a new viewpoint from which the young wife
could observe the workings of his mind. Something about it subtracted from
her faith in him, and in life.

While she was still washing the dinner dishes John came in to discuss the
visit. Elizabeth was athrob with the weariness of a half day spent at the
ironing table, and to avoid dressing the baby had asked Mrs. Hunter to
take care of him.

With no other visible reason but his customary obstinacy, John insisted
upon the child being taken.

"I've got to get back early and get the coloured clothes folded down.
Every one of the boys had a white shirt and two or three collars this
week, so I asked mother to keep him for me," Elizabeth said.

"Now see here," John argued. "Mother 'll fold those clothes and you can
just as well take him along and make a decent visit. They're the nicest
people in the country, according to some of the neighbours."

Elizabeth's laugh nettled her husband. When he appeared with the wagon,
she was ready, with the baby in her arms.

The wind was keen and cold, the laprobes flew and fluttered in derisive
refusal to be tucked in.

"Take the buggy in and have it mended the next time you go to town," she
said, with her teeth chatt