"May come!—it will come!—it shall come!" cried the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him. "You can render no further service to your poor mother. She had noticed a twenty year pattern emerging, and funny how opportunity seemed to strike just when she was getting truly anxious. Forgetting her occupation in her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and, squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance, towards her crest-fallen spouse. She agreed entirely with her brother.
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