"You damned fool," he exclaimed, "if you hadn't set this a goin' an' kept it a goin' this wouldn't 'a' happened. Of all th' blasted, impossible things it's t' have a snivelling she-devil always at your elbow. Keep your hands off of me!" he cried, shaking himself loose from the detaining hand she had laid on his arm. "I'm goin' t' git." The boys had arrived by that time. They carried the girl to the well and bathed her face and hands with fresh water, while the head of the house strode down the road toward the north. Elizabeth was not seriously injured and recovered consciousness as soon as the water touched her. Mrs. Farnshaw left the task of resuscitation to her sons and looked after her rapidly disappearing husband with eyes that longed for reconciliation. Reconciliation for one thing or another had been the most driving inspiration her twenty years of married life had known; it was her most potent incentive. Cowed and broken, fear bound her fast to his footsteps. Not even the daughter struggling to her feet at her side could detract her attention from his receding form. Elizabeth stood balancing herself dizzily for a moment before she began really to see or grasp what was going on around her; then the full value of the mishap broke upon her. All that Luther and Aunt Susan had hinted at had befallen her in spite of every effort to avoid it. But not even the calamity which had befallen them could stop their busy fingers. The preparations for the wedding feast were a merciful feature of the rest of the evening. The guests had been invited and must be prepared for. The hair that had been washed was braided, the mother's tears dried, and every member of the family pressed into the service. The entire house was cleaned and rearranged. Not till after midnight did the members of the little group seek their beds. Mr. Farnshaw had not returned. They had even forgotten him a large part of the time in the hurry. Elizabeth regarded the half dozen bruises which her sleeves would not cover with alarm when she was at last ready to climb her ladder. Joe covered them with a liniment which he brought from the barn. As he set the dusty bottle on the kitchen table after the anointing had been done, he remarked dryly: "Wonder if you an' me 'll ever do that kind of thing t' our young ones? Everybody's always said we was like the old man." "Take that nasty smellin' bottle out of here, an' don't begin any talk about your pa. Everybody get t' bed," Mrs. Farnshaw commanded.