The blood rushed instantly to Emeline's face, she turned upon him her
ugliest look, and the hand with which she was buttoning her glove
trembled.

"Now, I'll tell you something, Mr. George Page!" said she, in an intense
and passionate tone, "there _are_ things I'd rather do than set around
this house and hear you tell how sick you are! You think I'm a white
chip in this family, but let me tell you something--there's plenty of
lovely friends I got who think I'm a fool to keep it up! I had an offer
to go on the stage, not a month ago, from a manager who didn't even know
I was married; didn't I, Mame? And if it wasn't for Julie there----"

"You've not got anything on me, Em," George said, breathing hard, his
face blood red with anger. "Do you think that if it wasn't for this kid,
I'd----"

"Oh, folks--folks!" Mrs. Povey said, really concerned.

"Well, I don't care!" Emeline said, panting. She crossed the floor,
still panting, kissed Julia, and swept from the room. Mrs. Povey,
murmuring some confused farewell, followed her.

Julia climbed out of her big chair. Like all children, she was
frightened by loud voices and domestic scenes; she was glad now that the
quarrel was over, and anxious, in a small girl's fashion, to blot the
recent unpleasantness from her father's mind.

She sat on his knee and talked to him, she sang, she patted his sore
neck with sleek, dirty little fingers. And finally she won him. George
laughed, and entered into her mood. He thought her a very smart little