holly, but in
part, for she was really at peace in all but the innermost citadel of
her conscience. She had left her husband, and for the moment, at all
events, she was fiercely glad; but she had left her boy, and Jack was
only ten. Jack was not the helpless, clinging sort; he was a little
piece of his father, and his favorite. Aunt Louisa would surely take
him, and Jack would scarcely feel the difference, for he had never shown
any special affection for anybody. Still he was her child, nobody could
possibly get around that fact, and it was a stumbling-block in the way
of forgetfulness or ease of mind. Oh, but for that, what unspeakable
content she could feel in this quiet haven, this self-respecting
solitude! To have her thoughts, her emotions, her words, her _self_, to
herself once more, as she had had them before she was married at
seventeen. To go to sleep in peace, without listening for a step she had
once heard with gladness, but that now sometimes stumbled unsteadily on
the stair; or to dream as happy women dreamed, without being roused by
the voice of the present John, a voice so different from that of the
past John that it made the heart ache to listen to it.

Sue's voice broke the stillness: "How long are we going to stay here,
Mardie?"

"I don't know, Sue; I think perhaps as long as they'll let us."

"Will Fardie come and see us?"

"I don't expect him."

"Who'll take care of Jack, Mardie?"

"Your Aunt Louisa."

"She'll scold him awfully, but he never cries; he just says, 'Pooh! what
do I care?' Oh, I forgot to pray for that very nicest Shaker gentleman
that said he'd let me help him feed the calves! Hadn't I better get out
of bed and do it? I'd 'specially like to."

"Very well, Sue; and then go to sleep."

Safely in bed again, there was a long pause, and then the eager little
voice began, "Who'll take care of Fardie now?"

"He's a big man; he doesn't need anybody."

"What if he's sick?"

"We must go back to him, I suppose."

"To-morrow's Sunday; what if he needs us to-morrow, Mardie?"

"I don't know, I don't know! Oh, Sue, Sue, don't ask your wretched
mother any more questions, for she cannot bear them to-night. Cuddle up
close to her; love her and forgive her and help her to know what's
right."

[1] "Yea" is always thus pronounced by the Shakers.

II

A SON OF ADAM

[Illustration]

When Susanna Nelson at seventeen married John Hathaway, she had the
usual cogent reasons for