"Well," said the doctor's wife, "if that boy eat mince-pie, an' slid
down hill, too, I guess you ain't much call to worry about anything
you've done, Mis' Thayer. I know what the doctor has said right
along."
The doctor's wife arose with a certain mild impressiveness, as if
some mantle of her husband's authority had fallen upon her. She shook
out her ample skirts as if they were redolent of rhubarb and mint.
"Well, I guess we had better be going," said she, and her inflections
were like the doctor's.
Mrs. Ray rose also. "Well, we thought you'd ought to know," said she.
"I'm much obliged to you," said Deborah.
She went through the kitchen with them. When the door was shut behind
them she turned to Caleb, who had shuffled along at her heels. "Oh,
father, why didn't you tell me if you knew, why didn't you tell me?"
she gasped out.
Caleb stared at her. "Why, mother?" he returned.
"Didn't you know I thought I'd killed him, father? didn't you know I
thought I'd killed my son? An' now maybe I haven't! maybe I haven't!
O Lord, I thank thee for letting me know before I die! Maybe I
haven't killed him, after all!"
"I didn't s'pose it would make any difference," said Caleb,
helplessly.
Suddenly, to the old man's great terror, his wife caught hold of him
and clung to him. He staggered a little; his arms hung straight at
his sides.
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