Fidgety people drive them crazy. Why can't you behave simply and
directly with them! Why is it I always get more milk from mine!
It's your own fault this happened--fussing around, taking out
your ill temper at me on her. Shouting at me. What could you
expect?"

For the first time in their life together, Rose was frankly
unnerved. It seemed to her that she would go mad. "You devil!"
she burst out, wildly. "That's what you are, Martin Wade! You're
not human. Your child may be lost and you talk about cows letting
down more milk. Oh God! I didn't know there was any one living
who could be so cruel, so cold, so diabolical. You'll be punished
for this some day--you will--you will. You don't love me--never
did, oh, don't I know it. But some time you will love some one.
Then you'll understand what it is to be treated like this when
your whole soul is in need of tenderness. You'll see then what--"

"Oh, shut up," growled Martin, somewhat abashed by the violence
of her broken words and gasping sobs. "You're hysterical. You're
doing yourself as much harm right now as that kick did you."

"Oh, Martin, please be kind," pleaded Rose more quietly. "Please!
It's your baby as much as mine. Be just half as kind as you are
to these cows."

"They have more sense," he retorted angrily. And when Rose woke
him, the following night, to go for the doctor, his quick
exclamation was: "So now you've done it, have you?"

As the sound of his horse's hoofs died away, it seemed to her