distorted his hairy face.

The Father glanced up from where he was kneeling. "Ye itch t' make
trouble, don't ye?" he charged. "When ye ought t' be thankful that this
young woman has found such a good man for a husband. I've watched the
Perkins lad pretty close. I've been t' see him, and he's called t' see
me. And by ev'ry way that a man who's a priest can judge another man, I
find no fault in him."

"Well, s'pose y' don't," answered Big Tom. "It jus' happens that _I_
do."

"Ye can't!" cried the other. "Not and be honest! Ye can't find fault
where there isn't fault! Why, he served in France, and him far under
age. And I'll ask ye, where was _yerself_ durin' the late War?
Supportin' a pensioned father, eh? And a girl that was earnin' her own
livin'! And a boy who's never cost ye a cent!--Ah, don't answer me!
Don't stain yer soul with anny more falsehoods! Money's what's irkin'
ye--the girl's earnin's. They're more t' ye than her happiness, and a
good home, and a grand husband!" Then to Johnnie, "Wee poet, won't ye
wink a bright lash at the Father who loves ye?--or me heart'll split in
two pieces!"

Johnnie sighed, and winked two bright lashes, whereupon the priest
lifted the boy's head and gave him a sip from Cis's cup of water. "Aw, a
drink o' tea'll fix _him_ all right," asserted Barber. "He ain't half as
bad off as he pretends."

"Don't talk t' me at all, Tom Barber!" commanded the priest. "For I've
no temper for it as I look at the face and shoulders o' this lad that
ye've whipped so cruel! Or at the girl that ye've tied up this whole
long night!"

By now, Cis, wrapped in her own quilt, was combed and in the big chair,
and was being plied with milk by Mrs. Kukor. She was out of pain now,
and her concern was mostly for Johnnie. She watched him constantly,
smiling down at him lovingly. And as he opened his eyes and looked back
at her, she saw the stiff muscles of his face twist as if in a spasm,
and at the sight of that twisting was frightened.

"Oh, Johnnie!" she faltered. "Oh, what's the matter?"

Johnnie's lips moved. "Noth--nothin'," he whispered back. "I--I'm jus'
tryin' t' smile."

"Ah, there's a brave lad for ye!" exclaimed the Father, the tears
shining in the green eyes. "Not a whine! Not a whimper! Where'd ye find
another boy, Tom Barber, that'd take yer heavy hand in the spirit o'
this one? Shure, there's not a look out o' him t' show that he's hatin'
ye for what ye did t' him! Ha-a-a! It's a pearl