Mrs. Comstock left the room. Wesley Sinton sat with his back to the
window in the west end of the cabin which overlooked the well. A
suppressed sound behind him caused him to turn quickly. Then he arose
and leaned over Margaret.

"She's out there laughing like a blamed monkey!" he whispered
indignantly.

"Well, she can't help it!" exclaimed Margaret.

"I'm going home!" said Wesley.

"Oh no, you are not!" retorted Margaret. "You are missing the point.
The point is not how you look, or feel. It is to get these things in
Elnora's possession past dispute. You go now, and to-morrow Elnora will
wear calico, and Kate Comstock will return these goods. Right here I
stay until everything we bought is Elnora's."

"What are you going to do?" asked Wesley.

"I don't know yet, myself," said Margaret.

Then she arose and peered from the window. At the well curb stood
Katharine Comstock. The strain of the day was finding reaction. Her chin
was in the air, she was heaving, shaking and strangling to suppress
any sound. The word that slipped between Margaret Sinton's lips shocked
Wesley until he dropped on his chair, and recalled her to her senses.
She was fairly composed as she turned to Elnora, and began the fitting.
When she had pinched, pulled, and patted she called, "Come see if you