"Helen wrote me he had the Skinner girl and her baby with him," said Mrs. Graves. "Wasn't that a funny thing for him to do, Ebbie?"
Waldstricker pushed back angrily.
"Funny! Funny!" he ejaculated. "It isn't decent, and I've told him so, too."
Frederick's face flushed, and he toyed nervously with the silver at the side of his plate.
"But, Ebenezer, you don't mean she's living with him, do you?" he faltered, leaning forward.
"They live there together, Young and the girl and her--" Ebenezer's anger almost made him forget the conventional respect he owed his wife and sister, "--her son," he concluded lamely. "That's all I know, and it's enough. He's had the best houses in Ithaca closed to him on her account."
Indignation at her husband's injustice burnt a red spot in Helen's cheeks and kindled a flame of unusual animation in her placid blue eyes.
"You know better, Ebenezer," she retorted. "Forrie's given her a father's care, and every one worth while honors him for it."
Frederick, kept in his attitude of tense attention by a sudden revival of his jealousy of Young, sighed audibly and settled back in his chair.
"I'm glad to hear you say that, Helen," he said earnestly.
"Oh, are you, Fred?" cried Madelene. "So your old interest in that girl isn't dead, yet? Well, all I can say is, I am sorry she didn't get you, but I'll bet she's glad, now, she didn't."
Waldstricker looked keenly from the speaker to her husband. But Frederick had again put on his mask of apathetic indifference and answered his wife's gibe only by a shrug of his shoulders. Noting her brother's scowling face, she went on maliciously.
"You'd better keep away from the lake place, my dear husband, or you'll have both Ebbie and Forrie after you."
"Will you have your tea now, Madelene?" Helen was alarmed at the threatened tempest, and hoped to change the subject.
"Yes, thanks, dear," and to her brother, "After all, Ebbie, Forrie probably knows his own business best. You know he's quite partial to the squatters and always did things for 'em."
Mrs. Waldstricker summoned the servant, and while the dishes were being removed, Ebenezer sat and glowered from Frederick, white and distrait, to his wife, who was explaining to Madelene the way she'd made the salad dressing. When the servant had gone, Waldstricker began again.
"I'm out of patience with Deforrest! If he'd let me alone, I'd had all the squatters off the lake side before this and probably would have located Bishop."
"You've heard nothing of him, Ebbie, I suppose?" asked Madelene. "It does seem queer a dwarf could disappear like that and not a word about him from any part of the world."
Waldstricker's powerful hand clenched the teaspoon in his fingers so violently as to bend the handle.
"No, I haven't," he growled. "I've a notion he's being harbored by some of the squatters. But I want Deforrest to understand this--"
"Oh, let's talk of something else besides squatters," cried Madelene.
"Helen, your salad was divine.... Tell me, Ebbie, how you enjoy little Elsie. I think she's lovely."
"Lovely!" he repeated in a very different tone. "Lovely is no word for that child. She's an angel, isn't she, Helen?"
Helen smiled dubiously.
"An angel, very much spoiled, I fear."
"No such thing," argued Waldstricker, glad of an opportunity to air his favorite theory. "Now Helen thinks the child's spoiled because she drops on the floor and kicks and cries until she gets what she wants. I tell her it's human nature, and perfectly right for my child to have her own way. Thank God, there's nothing in the world she can't have."
Then looking from Frederick to his sister, he made a heavy attempt to be humorous.
"What's the matter of you two? You've been married longer than Helen and I. When are you going to start your family?"
Frederick maintained his pose of bored unconcern and an angry flush mounted to Madelene's face.
"You think you're smart, Eb," she retorted. "Fred's all the baby I can look after, and goodness knows he's trouble enough!"
"But, now, you're here, dear," Mrs. Waldstricker extended the olive branch again, "we'll help you look after him.... I do hope the weather'll clear so we can get out. The lake's been simply beautiful this summer."
"Just after I returned from Europe, I tried to dispossess Deforrest,"
Ebenezer told Fred, "but he beat me in court. I wanted to clean up the scandalous mess. I felt he was breaking God's law in harboring a woman of that kind. But I'm only biding my time." His voice sank as he cast his eyes slowly from one to another, at last, fixing them ominously upon his wife. "Biding my time," he growled deeply, laying his napkin on the table.
The gloom of his manner spread over the diners like a cloud. Helen's face expressed consternation; Frederick's discouragement, and Madelene's impatience.
"I must say this is pleasant," snapped Mrs. Graves. "Ebbie, I forbid you to speak of those people again tonight."
Helen made a little move as though to rise. In her capacity as peacemaker, it seemed advisable to change the scene of hostilities.
"Let's go to the drawing room," she invited.... "Fred, don't you think you'd better go to bed?"
"Yes, I'm all tired out. I think I will."
At the drawing room door, he turned to the stairs.
"Good-night, all," he added, and went slowly up to his room.
Reclining in a big chair, Frederick recalled the talk at the supper table and let his fancy rove in dreams of Tessibel and his son.
What a cruel persecutor Ebenezer was! How Helen had suffered during his outrageous harangue! The young man ground his teeth. So Ebenezer was but biding his time to do some terrible harm to Tessibel and her little boy, his boy! Frederick breathed deeply, and pressed his hand upon his heart.
Would the thing never stop beating that way! Would it never in this world quit that awful hurt when he thought of the squatter country! He undressed hastily and went to bed, nor did he speak when Madelene crept softly in beside him.
CHAPTER XL
HUSBAND AND WIFE
The next morning found Frederick Graves more nervous than ever. The weather had cleared. The air, washed by yesterday's downpour, came through the open window sweet to his nostrils. The countryside sparkled in the morning sun and the greens of the woods and fields were deeper and richer; but the beauty of the landscape touched him not. He'd scarcely slept, and when weariness had at last overcome him, his dreams had been filled with visions of a red haired girl, and a sturdy, handsome boy playing about upon the ragged rocks. When he came down to breakfast, Ebenezer told him he'd better see the doctor that day.
"You might go while Madelene and I are out this morning," suggested Helen. "Ah," hearing a child's voice in the hall, "here comes my baby!"
When the door opened, a little girl of three bounded in. Ebenezer held out his arms and Elsie sprang into them.
"Listen to Mrs. Waldstricker," he laughed. "She said, 'my baby,' and I say, she's mine.... Aren't you my baby, pet?"