He had suffered so much through religion during the last few months, that in this final moment of humanity the soul had taken refuge in numbness--apathy.

Let God decide.

He could think it out no more; and in this utter feebleness his terror of hell--the ineradicable deposit of childhood and inheritance--had passed away.

He gathered his forces for the few human and practical things which remained to him to do.
'Did she get on comfortable with father ?' he asked, fixing Reuben with his eyes, which had the penetration of death.
Reuben looked discomposed, and cleared his throat once or twice.
'Wal, it warn't what yo may call just coomfortable atween 'em.

Naw, I'll not say it wor.' 'What was wrong ?' demanded Sandy.
Reuben fidgeted.
'Wal,' he said at last, throwing up his head in desperation, 'I spose a woman likes her house to hersel when she's fust married.