Huldah grunted. "I am here," she returned. "What is it you want?"
"But I've got something to say that I don't care to yell to every fool on the street." He stared malevolently at the broad, blue calico back and half turned to retrace his steps; but no, he needed a woman's help--he must have it; and he finally began, in an anxious, reluctant half whisper: "What do you think of her? Is she really sick?"
"I think she'll die, all right," answered the old woman, without turning her head or glancing up from her cooking.
"You do!" sneered the man, with a sudden loudness of tone. "You think she'll die! You women are always using that word. I never saw a woman in a tight place yet but what she began whining that she believed it would kill her--that she'd die."
"Well, and they die, too, sometimes--don't they?"
A little sound or movement in the room behind him brought the man's glance around with such a malignant scowl that Huldah, noting it, deemed her time to speak out had come. "See here, sir," she began, turning away from the stove--"Manuelita, tend to that steak, and don't let it burn, for goodness' sake--see here, sir, you know a lot more'n I do about what ails that woman in there. But I know enough to know that she's goin' to die if she's driv' like you've been drivin' her."
"Like I've been driving her!" echoed the man, angrily. "She's the one that's making it hot for me. There's nothing the matter with her."
"All right," returned Huldah, applying herself once more to the cooking. "If there's nothing the matter of her, what did you come out here to ask me about it for?" Sudden rage mastered her as she worked over the steak gravy. She whirled and shook a finger at her interlocutor so sharply that he drew back. "I tell you that little creatur' in the room behind you is a-goin' to die if she ain't let up on," she finished, impressively.
Fear, indecision and rage contended upon the man's face. "Oh, Lord!" he ejaculated, "if one woman can't raise enough row, there's always another to help her. Well, come in here. You can take her over. To your own room, mind--nowhere else. And let nobody else see her or talk to her. You'll come right back, and not stay with her." He looked at Huldah Sarvice's strong, benevolent face, which smiled upon him inscrutably. "I expect I'm a fool to risk it," he muttered. "But--well, come in."