But, if there is, He is cruel and unjust,
and I hate Him."
"Judith!" gasped Salome, aghast at the impiety. She half expected
to see her sister struck dead at her feet.
"Don't 'Judith' me!" said Judith passionately, in the strange
anger that any discussion of the subject always roused in her.
"I mean every word I say. Before you got lame I didn't feel much
about it one way or another; I'd just as soon have gone with mother
as with father. But, when you were struck down like that,
I knew father was right."
For a moment Salome quailed. She felt that she could not, dare not,
stand out against Judith. For her own sake she could not have done so,
but the thought of Lionel Hezekiah nerved her to desperation.
She struck her thin, bleached little hands wildly together.
"Judith, I'm going to church to-morrow," she cried. "I tell you
I am, I won't set Lionel Hezekiah a bad example one day longer.
I'll not take him; I won't go against you in that, for it is your
bounty feeds and clothes him; but I'm going myself."
"If you do, Salome Marsh, I'll never forgive you," said Judith,
her harsh face dark with anger; and then, not trusting herself
to discuss the subject any longer, she went out.
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