t finally he called sharply: "Susan
Jr., Susan, don't pretend you don't hear me. Come right out here on my
stoop, I got to speak to you alone."

And Susan crept stealthily out. She had grown up to be a thin, small
woman with a meddlesome soul out of all proportion to her body, and now
she wore a wheedling smile such as one might employ with a fretful baby.

"You are lookin' right smart better, Uncle Ambrose," she began, "and
'Lizabeth Horton tells me you'll soon be yourself again."

"Susan," the old man interrupted, "you are in that kitchen hatching up
trouble fer me sure as sin. I heard you tellin' 'Lizabeth that she
oughtn't to be stayin' much longer with me. What did you do that fer?"
And Uncle Ambrose's eyes, which could be like points of steel in
righteous anger, now emitted certain fiery sparks. "'Lizabeth is happy
and is makin' me comfortable after seven more lonesome years, and you've
always been preachin' I ought to git some one to take kire of me. Susan
Jr., the Lord gives and the Lord taketh away, but don't you try comin'
around here playin' the part of the Lord. You let this spinster be."

Again Susan Jr. smiled with an air of superior virtue. "It ain't _me_
that's talkin', Uncle Ambrose; I ain't seein' anything so wrong in your
present relations, but I must say folks in Pennyrile is beginnin' to
speculate some, bein's as 'Lizabeth is just turned fifty and you with
such a reckernized taste fer female folks, why, though things ain't to
say scanderlous, there is some that thinks 'em a little pe-cul-iar."

"Go, Susan," and though Uncle Ambrose spoke with restraint his long
finger pointed toward the intervening space which lay between his house
and hers. "Go, afore I'm able to tell you what I think of you, 'cause
I've known you from a child and you ain't changed none--fer the better.
To think of you sneakin' over here fer the supreme pleasure of worryin'
one poor homely old maid with your gossip and suggestin's." And Uncle
Ambrose's face worked with the annoyance of frustrated old age. "Ef only
'Lizabeth had had one or two husbands she wouldn't be payin' no
attention to this, but bein's as she's never had none, well, I kin see
that I'm goin' to have my hands pretty nigh full. Seems like I'd rather
turn a child out'n the world than this poor unrequited female."

Late that evening Elizabeth gave Uncle Ambrose his supper as usual,
although her eyes were so nearly closed from weeping that she was unable
to catc