ony, and
with that fearsome menace a widow carries like a cloud about her.

Eddie spoke of meeting her "down-town," and in his fatuous innocence
announced that she was "as pirty as ever." If he had hit Pheeny with a
hatchet he would have inflicted a less painful wound.

XIII

Luella's presence cast Pheeny into a profounder dismay than she had ever
felt about the cook. After all, Delia was only a hired girl, while
Luella was an old sweetheart. Delia had put wicked ideas into Eddie's
head and now Luella would finish him. As Ellaphine's mother had always
said, "Men have to have novelty."

The Lord Himself had never seen old Mr. Govers stray an inch aside from
the straight path of fidelity; but his wife had enhanced him with a
lifelong suspicion that eventually established itself as historical
fact.

Pheeny could find some excuse for Eddie's Don Juanity with the common
clay of Delia, especially as she never quite believed her own beliefs in
that affair; but Luella was different. Luella had been a rival. The
merest courtesy to Luella was an unpardonable affront to every sacred
right of successful rivalry.

The submerged bitternesses that had gathered in her soul like bubbles at
the bottom of a hot kettle came showering upward now, and her heart
simmered and thrummed, ready to boil over if the heat were not removed.

One day, soon, Luella fastened on Eddie as he left the factory to go
home to dinner. She had loitered about, hoping to engage the eye of
Jabez, who was now the most important widower in town. Luella had
elected him for her next; but he was away, and she whetted her wits on
Eddie. She walked at his side, excruciating him with her glib memories
of old times and the mad devotion he had cherished for her then.

He felt that it was unfaithful of him even to listen to her, but he
could not spur up courage enough to bolt and run. He welcomed the sight
of his own gate as an asylum of refuge. To his horror, Luella stopped
and continued her chatter, draping herself in emotional attitudes and
italicizing her coquetries. Her eyes seemed to drawl languorous words
that her lips dared not voice; and she committed the heinous offense of
plucking at Eddie's coat-sleeve and clinging to his hand. Then she
walked on like an erect cobra.

Eddie's very back had felt that Pheeny was watching him from one of the
windows or from all the windows; for when, at last, he achieved the rude
victory of breaking away from Luella and