“I’m not a minister, but I’m the wife of a minister, which is the next best thing,” Mrs. Larrabee used to say.  “I tell you, Letty, there’s no use in human creatures being resigned till their bodies are fairly worn out with fighting.  When you can’t think of another mortal thing to do, be resigned; but I’m convinced that the Lord is ashamed of us when we fold our hands too soon!”

“You were born courageous, Reba!” And Letty would look admiringly at the rosy cheeks and bright eyes of her friend.

“My blood circulates freely; that helps me a lot.  Everybody’s blood circulates in Racine, Wisconsin.”—­And the minister’s wife laughed genially.  “Yours, hereabouts, freezes up in your six months of cold weather, and when it begins to thaw out the snow is ready to fall again.  That sort of thing induces depression, although no mere climate would account for Mrs. Popham.—­Ossian said to Luther the other day:  ’Maria ain’t hardly to blame, parson.  She come from a gloomy stock.  The Ladds was all gloomy, root and branch.  They say that the Ladd babies was always discouraged two days after they was born.’”

The cause of Letty’s chief heartache, the one that she could reveal to nobody, was that her brother should leave her nowadays so completely to her own resources.  She recalled the time when he came home from Boston, pale, haggard, ashamed, and told her of his marriage, months before.  She could read in his lack-lustre eyes, and hear in his voice, the absence of love, the fear of the future.  That was bad enough, but presently he said:  “Letty, there’s more to tell.  I’ve no money, and no place to put my wife, but there’s a child coming.  Can I bring her here till—­afterwards?  You won’t like her, but she’s so ailing and despondent just now that I think she’ll behave herself, and I’ll take her away as soon as she’s able to travel.  She would never stay here in the country, anyway; you couldn’t hire her to do it.”

She came:  black-haired, sullen-faced Eva, with a vulgar beauty of her own, much damaged by bad temper, discontent, and illness.  Oh, those terrible weeks for Letty, hiding her own misery, putting on a brave face with the neighbors, keeping the unwelcome sister-in-law in the background.

It was bitterly cold, and Eva raged against the climate, the house, the lack of a servant, the absence of gayety, and above all at the prospect of motherhood.  Her resentment against David, for some reason unknown to Letty, was deep and profound and she made no secret of it; until the outraged Letty, goaded into speech one day, said:  “Listen, Eva!  David brought you here because his sister’s house was the proper place for you just now.  I don’t know why you married each other, but you did, and it’s evidently a failure.  I’m going to stand by David and see you through this trouble, but while you’re under my roof you’ll have to speak respectfully of my brother; not so much because he’s my brother, but because he’s your husband and the father of the child that’s coming:—­do you understand?”