is a fine girl, and I'm master fond of her. Seems like a daughter,—a'most."
"Oh, so I'm a fool, am I?" inquired Mrs. Christy with bitterness. "Thank you. And next I s'pose you 'll remind me we have n't any children of our own"—
"Carrie," interrupted the old man, with a sad look, indescribable and penetrating. The faint color of aged, wintry emotion flushed in his cheeks above the white beard. "I did n't think you'd speak like this—rememberin'—well, rememberin' little Eunice."
Thus began another causeless battle, obscure, long-drawn, unworthy, involved in everyday matters, acts, words, looks, silences, trivial in themselves, but—as hovel, or hedge, or waterhole in greater warfare—invested with the unhappy dignity of conflict. The captain craved only peace; it was his wife who found the pretexts and broke the truces, with the aimless, chronic hostility that had become her nature and occupation.
The townspeople had already discussed her projected visit "Up the Line;" as bare autumn was freezing into winter they learned, with
