they
can't, poor fellows--for they are poor; but Mr. Paine is one of the
best off men in the district. He could have a beautiful home if he
liked, and his wife could be the handsomest woman in the neighborhood.
She is the sort of woman who would show off good clothes too. I
suppose her love of pretty things has made her all the sorer, because
she has not had them. I just wanted to tell you, Mr. Gilchrist, before
you closed the deal. Mrs. Paine would never tell you, and naturally
enough Mr. Paine wouldn't. In fact he does not know just how things
stand. But I feel that you should know just what you are doing if you
take this farm. Of course, it is hardly fair to expect you to protect
this woman's home and her children, and save her from being turned
out, if her husband won't--you are under no obligation to protect her.
She made her choice years ago--with her eyes open--when she married
Sylvester Paine. It seems ... she guessed wrong ... and now ... she
must pay!"
Mrs. Paine sank into a chair with a sob that seemed to tear her heart
out. The auburn hair fell across her face, her lovely curly hair, from
which in her excitement she had pulled the pins. It lay on the table
in ringlets of gold, which seemed to writhe, as if they too were
suffering. Her breath came sobbing, like a dog's dream.
Sylvester Paine was the first to speak.
"Pearl, you're wrong in one place," he said, "just one--you had
everything else straight. But you were wrong in one place."
He went around the table and laid his hand on his wife's head.
"Millie," he said, gently.
She looked up at him tearfully.
"Millie!"
He stood awkwardly beside her, struggling to control himself. All the
swagger had gone from him, all the bluster. When he spoke his voice
was husky.
"Pearl has got it all straight, except in one place." he said. "She's
wrong in one place. She says you guessed wrong when you married me,
Millie."
His voice was thick, and the words came with difficulty.
"Pearl has done fine, and sized the case up well ... but she's wrong
there. It looks bad just now, Millie--but you didn't make such a
rotten guess, after all. I'm not just sayin' what I'll do, but--"
"The deal is off, Bob," he said to Mr. Gilchrist, "until Mrs. Paine
and I talk things over."
And then Pearl quietly slipped into her coat and, motioning to Peter,
who gladly followed her, went out.
CHAPTER XIV
THE SEVENTH WAVE
The big storm had demoralized th
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