"Not from me," protested Grandfather. "She is the object of my constant prayers."
Matthew felt his skin tingle. He drew a deep breath as though he would inhale more air than the little cottage could furnish. He seemed to shake his shoulders free of some burden, and he began to talk like a madman.
"You frightened her! You threatened her with hell! She was afraid. You frightened me. You didn't let me think for myself. I wish I too had run away!"
Then like a petulant boy he departed, slamming the door. The quiver which shook the cottage seemed to transmit itself to the outer air and thence to the Saal and Saron. Leaning heavily on his chair Grandfather lowered himself to his knees.
Matthew strode through the gate into the graveyard, catching his breath once more. He knew that he had acted the fool, but he didn't care, he was so desperately unhappy and confused. As he drew near the farm he heard the wind in the trees. He stood still; the sound seemed to carry some message, but he could not interpret it.
When he opened the door he saw at first only the faint glow of the fire in the stove, a pleasant sight on a cool evening. But he heard smothered laughter and saw that on the old settle Esther sat with a beau. She hailed him with gay and hateful familiarity.
Ellen spent a dreary Sunday within doors and from time to time shed tears. She had not minded rain in the country, but this day was intolerable. All the afternoon Mrs. Lebber and Mrs. Sassaman sat at the parlor windows looking out into the dingy street and alternating sigh with sigh. She went with them to evening service in a little church, where the singing was wretched and the sermon grim. The scanty and spiritless congregation dispersed silently and she bit her lips to keep from crying.
The following morning she started out once more to find a position. In the sordid district behind the Capitol she saw, next to a Jewish synagogue with strange lettering above its door, a laundry whose sign announced "Girl Wanted," and there applied. The second of her assets, physical strength, was to serve her now. In a few minutes she found herself engaged and being instructed in the art of running wet towels through a hot mangle. She put into her work a fierce, triumphant repudiation of Mr. Goldstein.