Alone in the Snow

His wife, who knew all the varying weathers of his temper was using all
her small stock of diplomacy to get him to eat his supper. "When in
doubt about a man, feed him," had been Louisa Bartlett's unfailing rule
for the last thirty years. "Here, Amasy, sit down in your place that
Anna has fixed for you. You can talk after you've had your tea. Anna,
please make the Squire some fresh tea. I'm afraid this is a little
cool."

"She need not make my tea, now, or on any future occasion--her days of
service in my family are done for." And he hammered the table with his
clenched fist.

Anna closed her eyes; it had come at last; she had always known that it
was only a question of time.

The rest looked at the Squire dumbfounded. Ah, that is, but Marthy.
She was licking her lips in delightful anticipation--with much the same
expression as a cat would regard an uncaged canary.

"Why, father, what do you mean?" asked David in amazement. He had
heard no rumor of why his father had gone to Belden.

"Now, listen, all of you," and again he thundered on the table with his
fist. "Last summer I was persuaded, against my will, to take a strange
woman into my house. I found out to-day that my judgment then was
right. I have been imposed on--she is an imposter, an adventuress."