She
drew away her hands.
"Hush, Phil! Hush!" she protested. "That fever has you again! You are
dreadfully ill. You don't know what you are saying."
"I am sleepless and exhausted; I'm heartsick; but I am well as I ever
was. Answer me, Elnora, would you?"
"Answer nothing!" cried Mrs. Comstock. "Answer nothing! Hang your coat
there on your nail, Phil, and come split some kindling. Elnora, clean
away that stuff, and set the table. Can't you see the boy is starved and
tired? He's come home to rest and eat a decent meal. Come on, Phil!"
Mrs. Comstock marched away, and Philip hung his coat in its old place
and followed. Out of sight and hearing she turned on him.
"Do you call yourself a man or a hound?" she flared.
"I beg your pardon----" stammered Philip Ammon.
"I should think you would!" she ejaculated. "I'll admit you did the
square thing and was a man last summer, though I'd liked it better if
you'd faced up and told me you were promised; but to come back here
babying, and take hold of Elnora like that, and talk that way because
you have had a fuss with your girl, I don't tolerate. Split that
kindling and I'll get your supper, and then you better go. I won't have
you working on Elnora's big heart, because you have quarrelled with some
one else. You'll have it patched up in a week and be gone again, so you
can go right away."
"Mrs. Comstock, I came to ask Elnora to marry me."
"The more fool you, then!" cried Mrs.
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