the child resisted violently, though she
was usually so docile with Ellen.

Eva did not seem to notice Amabel's crying. She stood in that
horrible inflexibility, with eyes like black stones fixed on
something unseeable.

Fanny clutched her violently by the arm and shook her.

"Eva Tenny," said she, "you behave yourself. What if he has run
away? You ain't the first woman whose husband has run away. I'd have
more pride. I wouldn't please him nor her enough. If he's as bad as
that, you're better off rid of him."

Eva turned on her sister, and her calm broke up like ice under her
fire of passion.

"Don't you say one word against him, not one word!" she shrieked,
throwing off Fanny's hand. "I won't hear one word against my
husband."

Then little Amabel joined in. "Don't you say one word against my
papa!" she cried, in her shrill, childish treble. Then she sobbed
convulsively, and pushed Ellen away. "Go away!" she said, viciously,
to her. She was half mad with terror and bewilderment.

"Don't you say one word against Jim," said Eva again. "If ever I
hear anybody say one word against him I'll--"

"You don't mean you're goin' to stan' up for him, Eva Tenny?"

"As long as I draw the breath of life, and after, if I know
anything," declared Eva. Then she straightened herself to her full
height, threw back her shoulders, and burst into a furious
denunciation like some prophetess of wrath. The veins on her
forehead grew turgid, her lips seemed to swell, her hair seemed to
move as she talked. The others shrank back and looked at her; even
little Amabel hushed her sobs and stared, fascinated. "Curses on the
grinding tyranny that's brought it all about, and not on the poor,
weak man that fell under it!" she cried. "Jim ain't to blame. He's
had bigger burdens put on his shoulders than the Lord gave him
strength to bear. He had to drop 'em. Jim has tried faithful ever
since we were married. He worked hard, and it wa'n't never his fault
that he lost his place, but he kept losin' it. They kept shuttin'
down, or dischargin' him for no reason at all, without a minute's
warnin'. An' it wa'n't because he drank. Jim never drank when he had
a job. He was just taken up and put down by them over him as if he
was a piece on a checker-board. He lost his good opinion of himself
when he saw others didn't set any more by him than to shove him off
or on the board as it suited their play. He began to think maybe he
wa'n't a man, and then he