been worrying?"

"Not more than usual, Suzanna," said Mrs. Reynolds with a sigh. "Here's
your vinegar. Hold it steady. Vinegar's a bad thing to spill."

"Thank you," said Suzanna, politely, as she received the cup. And then:
"I don't see why you should worry. You have no children. It's mother's
many children that sometimes give her worry."

"Your mother'd have worries even without you all," returned Mrs.
Reynolds. "Won't you sit down a spell, Suzanna?"

"No, I can't, mother's waiting." Suzanna walked toward the door, pausing
on her way to glance about her. "My, but you're very clean here," she
said, appreciatively. "Your cleanness is different from ours. Ours
doesn't show so."

"There's no little hands to clutter things up," said Mrs. Reynolds, but
her voice wasn't glad.

Suzanna, intuitively sensing the real trouble, said: "Reynolds slammed
the door this morning, Mrs. Reynolds. We heard the slam in our
dining-room and my mother jumped." Suzanna quite innocently borrowed
Mrs. Reynolds' way of referring to her husband.

Mrs. Reynolds' face darkened. "Yes, I know he did. That man is getting
more like a bear every day."

"He liked our twin that went away, Mrs. Reynolds. He wasn't like a bear
when he played with her."