There was something in Ephraim's face, when she looked suddenly at
him, which continually led his mother to infer that he had been
transgressing. "What have you been doin', Ephraim?" she would call
out, sharply, many a time, with no just grounds for suspicion, and be
utterly routed by Ephraim's innocent, wondering grin in response.
The boy was set about with restrictions which made his life
miserable, but the labor of picking over plums for a cake was quite
to his taste. He dearly loved plums, although they were especially
prohibited. He rolled one quietly under his tongue, and watched
Rebecca with sharp eyes. She could scarcely keep her face turned away
from him and her mother too.
"Say, mother, Rebecca's been cryin'!" Ephraim announced, suddenly.
Deborah turned and looked at Rebecca's face bending lower over the
wooden bowl; her black lashes rested on red circles, and her lips
were swollen.
"I'd like to know what you've been cryin' about," said Deborah. It
was odd that she did not think that Rebecca's grief might be due to
the worry over Barney; but she did not for a minute. She directly
attributed it to some personal and strictly selfish consideration
which should arouse her animosity.
"Nothing," said Rebecca, with sulky misery.
"Yes, you've been cryin' about something, too. I want to know what
'tis."
"Nothing.
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