She was not afraid of
Abel's anger, and he knew it; but his eldest son, Black Andy, was
present, and he must make a show of being master of the situation.
"Aunt Kate," he said, "I didn't make a fuss about you sending the horses
and sleigh for her, because women do fool things sometimes. I suppose
curiosity got the best of you. Anyhow, mebbe it's right Cassy should find
out, once for all, how things stand, and that they haven't altered since
she took George away, and ruined his life, and sent him to his grave.
That's why I didn't order Mick back when I saw him going out with the
team."
"Cassy Mavor," interjected a third voice from a corner behind the great
stove--"Cassy Mavor, of the variety-dance-and-song, and a talk with the
gallery between!"
Aunt Kate looked over at Black Andy, and stopped knitting, for there was
that in the tone of the sullen ranchman which stirred in her a sudden
anger, and anger was a rare and uncomfortable sensation to her. A flush
crept slowly over her face, then it died away, and she said quietly to
Black Andy--for she had ever prayed to be master of the demon of temper
down deep in her, and she was praying now:
"She earnt her living by singing and dancing, and she's brought up
George's boy by it, and singing and dancing isn't a crime.
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