As always when aught troubled his mind, "Father" turned to Angy; but
instead of his composed and resourceful little wife he found a
scared-faced and trembling woman. Angy had suddenly become conscious of
the shadow of the green-eyed monster. Angy's loyal heart was crying out
to her mate: "Don't git the sisters daown on yer, Abe, 'cuz then, mebbe,
yew'll lose yer hum!" But poor Angeline's lips were so stiff with terror
over the prospect of the County House for her husband, that she could
not persuade them to speech.

Abraham, completely at sea, turned next to her whom he had called his
guardian angel; but Blossy was rising from her seat, a baffling smile
of expectancy on her face, the rose spray swinging in her delicate hand
as if to the measure of some music too far back in youth for any one
else to hear. Blossy had worn that expectant look all day. She might
have been delightedly hugging to herself a secret which she had not
shared even with the trusted Abraham. She was gowned in her yellow lace,
the beauty and grace of which had defied the changing fashions as
Blossy's remarkable elegance of appearance had defied the passing of the
years.

"Brother Abe,"--in her heedlessness of the mischief she had wrought,
Blossy seemed almost to sing,--"I never shall forget your speech as long
as I live. Will you excuse me now?"

She swept out of the door, her skirts rustling behind her.

Abe collected himself so far as to bow in the direction she had taken;
then with lamblike eyes of inquiry met the exasperated glances cast upon
him.