"Indeed it is, an’ more so when ye’r conscience is lashin’ ye like a thousand divils. I had a hard time to git to sleep last night, fer the picture of the Great Judgment riz right up before me. I heard the Lord a-sayin’, ’Zeb Burns, them Denton kids was hungry an’ ye gave them nuthin’ to eat; they was thirsty an’ ye never gave them any fresh milk; they was almost naked an’ ye didn’t give them any clothes. If ye had done them things that little Denton boy wouldn’t have died.’ That’s what I thought He said, an’ when I went to sleep I dreamed that I was bein’ sent to the left hand right into hell fire. It gave me sich a scare that I jumped out of bed with a yell, an’ my wife thought I was crazy. I tell ye it was an awful experience."
Zebedee pulled out a big red handkerchief, and mopped his brow.
"My! I git all het up when I think of it," he panted.
Abner made no immediate reply, but stood very still with his eyes fixed intently upon the floor.
"Guess I’ll go now," he at length announced.
"What are ye workin’ at these days?" Zeb asked.
"Pertaters; an’ a mighty pesky job it is. Full of weeds."
"So I would if it hadn’t been fer house-cleanin’."
"Sure. House so spick an’ span that I kin hardly step or set anywheres, so I generally roost on the wood-box. Well, s’long. I must be off."
Abner was unusually silent at dinner and did not seem to notice the neatly set table, nor the fresh wild flowers artistically arranged in the little vase in the centre. He glanced occasionally at his daughter who was sitting opposite, and his eyes shone with pride. He would have been less than human had his heart not thrilled at the vision before him. Jess was in her brightest mood. Her face glowed with abounding health, and her dark eyes beamed with animation as she talked with her mother about her plans for the future, and of the approaching visit of Isabel Rivers. Mrs. Andrews, too, was in excellent spirits, for the finishing touches had been given to the house that morning, and everything was in readiness for the visitor. She nevertheless noted her husband’s preoccupied air, and wondered what was troubling him.
When dinner was over Abner pushed back his chair, and gave a deep sigh.
"What’s the matter with you, Abner?" his wife asked. "You don’t seem to be yourself to-day. You’re not sick, I hope."