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"There's enough drinkin' in this house without my help," she returned sharply.
"What do you mean?" Symes's eyes opened. "Are you serious?"
The question he saw was superfluous.
"It's nothin' I'd joke about."
"You amaze me. Do you mean Augusta--drinks?"
"Too much."
"By herself?"
"No; always with Dr. Harpe. Dr. Harpe drinks like a man--that size." She held up significant fingers.
Symes frowned.
"I know that Dr. Harpe's sentiments are not--er--strictly temperance, but Augusta--this is news to me, and I don't like it." He thrust his hands deep in his trousers pockets and leaned his shoulder against the door jamb.
"When did this commence?"
"With the comin' of that woman to this house."
"It's curious--I've never noticed it."
"They've taken care of that. She's a--nuisance."
"You don't like Dr. Harpe?" Watching her face, Symes saw the change which flashed over it with his question.
"Like her! Like Dr. Harpe?" She took a step toward him, and the intensity in her voice startled him. Her little gray eyes seemed to dart sparks as she answered--"I come nearer hatin' her than I ever have any human bein'!"
"But why?" he persisted. Perhaps in her answer he would find an answer to the question he had but recently asked himself.
There was confusion in the old woman's eyes as they fell before his.
"Because," she answered finally, with a tightening of her lips.
"There's no definite reason? Nothing except your prejudice and this matter you've mentioned?"
A red spot burned on either withered cheek. She hesitated.
"No; I guess not," she said, and turned away.
"If I thought for a moment that her influence over Augusta was not good I'd put an end to this intimacy at once; but I suppose it's natural that she should desire some woman friend and it seems only reasonable to believe that a professional woman would be a better companion than that illiterate Parrott creature or the t.i.ttering Starrs." Symes shifted his broad shoulders to the opposite side of the door and his tone was the essence of complacency as he went on--
"Yes, if I had the shadow of a reason for forbidding this silly schoolgirl friendship I'd stop it quick."
The old woman's lips twisted in a faintly cynical smile.
"And could you?"
Symes laughed. Nothing could have been more preposterous than the suggestion that his control over Augusta was not absolute.
"Why, certainly. I mean to speak to Augusta at once in regard to this matter of drinking. I've never approved of it for women. There are two things that cannot be denied--Augusta is obedient and she's truthful."
His good-nature restored by the contemplation of these facts, he turned away determined to demonstrate his control of the situation for his own and the old woman's benefit at the earliest opportunity. In fact, the present was as good as any.
He walked to the door opening upon the porch, where Dr. Harpe still sat on the arm of the chair, her hand resting upon Augusta's shoulder.
"One moment, Augusta, if you please."
She arose at once with a slightly inquiring look and followed him inside.
"I have reason to believe, or rather to know, that you have fallen into the way of doing something of which I do not at all approve," he began.
"I mean drinking, Augusta. It's nothing serious, I am aware of that, it's only that I do not like it, so oblige me by not doing that sort of thing again." His tone was kindly but final.
He expected to see contrition in Augusta's face, her usual penitence for mistakes; instead of which there was a sullen resentment in the glance she flashed at him from her dark eyes.
"It's true, isn't it? You do not mean to deny it?"
"No."
"You intend to respect my wishes, of course?"
"Of course." She turned from him abruptly and went back to the porch.
The action was unlike her. He was still thinking of it when he put on his hat and went down town to attend to an errand before dinner.
As the gate swung behind him Dr. Harpe said unpleasantly--
"You were raked over the coals, eh, Gus?"
Mrs. Symes flushed in discomfiture.
"Oh, no--not exactly."
"Oh, yes, you were. Don't deny it; you're as transparent as a window-pane. What was it?"
"He has found out--some one has told him that we--that I have been drinking occasionally."
"That old woman." Dr. Harpe jerked her head contemptuously toward the kitchen.
"Probably it was grandma--she doesn't like it, I'm sure, for I never was allowed to do anything of the sort; in fact, I never thought of it or cared to."
"You are a free human being, aren't you? You can do what you like?"
"I've always preferred to do what Phidias liked since we've been married."
"Phidias! Phidias! You make me tired! You talk like a peon!"