Polly, too, joined in with her tears and prayers, saying, "She was an
old black fool anyway, and let her tongue get the better on her,
though she didn't mean to say more than was true, and reckoned she
hadn't."

In his heart Mr. Hamilton wished to revoke what he had said, but dread
of the explosive storm which he knew would surely follow made him
irresolute, until Carrie said, "Father, the first person of whom I
have any definite recollection is Aunt Polly, and I shall be so
lonesome if she goes away. For my sake let her stay, at least until I
am dead."

This decided the matter. "She _shall_ stay," said Mr. Hamilton, and
Aunt Polly, highly elated, returned to the kitchen with the news.
Lenora, who seemed to be everywhere at once, overheard it, and, bent
on mischief, ran with it to her mother. In the meantime Mr. Hamilton
wished, yet dreaded, to go down, and finally, mentally cursing himself
for his weakness, asked Margaret to accompany him. She was about to
comply with his request, when Mrs. Hamilton came up the stairs,
furious at her husband, whom she called "a craven coward, led by the
nose by all who chose to lead him." Wishing to shut out her noise, Mag
closed and bolted the door, and in the hall the modern Xantippe
extended her wrath against her husband and his offspring, while poor
Mr. Hamilton laid his face in Carrie's lap and wept. Margaret was
trying to devise some means by which to rid herself of her stepmother,
when Lenora was heard to exclaim:

"Shall I pitch her over the stairs, Mag? I will if you say so."