ah is bent on ill."
Elizabeth felt that her old friend was being weighed in the balances.
She could not trust her words to the emotion she felt.
"Do you think you are in a position to understand what I'm trying to
tell you?"
"Father," she said, speaking slowly that she might not lose control of
herself, "if you were not so serious about this, I should be tempted to
laugh at your little melodramatic farce. It is the most ridiculous thing
in all the world for you to imagine that Uncle Josiah would play double
with us! He is too good-hearted for even one evil suggestion to get into
his mind."
"I did not want to tell you the fact, but I fear I must. Of late he has
been openly hostile to every suggestion I have made. I presume he thinks
I should have secured a boat for him. That may account for his action."
"What dreadful thing has he done? I can't imagine----"
"Crookedness comes from the most unexpected sources," cut in her father,
curtly.
"But such a thing would not be unexpected from Uncle Josiah, it would be
impossible."
The Elder lowered his eyes to meet those peering at him from the tangle
of fair hair. "As I have already suggested, you might not understand me.
It seems that you are determined not to understand. It would be very
hard for me to have another falling out with my little girl. Maybe I
should say nothing further."
"If you are intending to say something against Uncle Josiah, perhaps you
had better not say it. I'm afraid I wouldn't understand."
She turned from her father and tried to gaze through the window. The
beating storm, and the light from within, made the pane opaque. She
stared against this till her eyes ached.
"Beth!" There was a note of command in his tone.
She turned to face her father.
"Come here," he ordered.
"Uncle Josiah untrue to us!" she said, without moving from her place at
the window. "I cannot believe it. There must be some mistake."
"There is absolutely no mistake about it. I should like to believe it
more than you. I have even tried to make myself believe that my
imagination was getting the better of me. But he was up here only last
night, and confirmed all my fears."
"Uncle Josiah untrue! He could not be after all you have done for
him. You loaned him money, and helped him fix up his place. Why,
Father,----"
"That is the thing that makes it hurt so," broke in the Elder. "He seems
ungrateful for all I have done. I don't care half as much for the
pr
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