At last her husband did arrive—“And was surprised there wasn’t any dinner.” She did not kill him, but it is likely the thought crossed her mind. Dinner. She had not even thought about cooking. She was furious. He was furious. She was being such a woman. What was there to be afraid of? This was nothing special. Some wind, some water. So what? He shouted that she should go upstairs with the children, that he was going back to town to pay his men, and would then—and only then—return to the house. “That was more than I could stand,” Louisa said. “I stamped my foot and said some terrible thing: I
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