be so foolish! Think I'm blind? Can't I see you ain't got it? Nowwhere is it?"
Kyan began a futile hunt for the missing napkin, in his lap, on thetable, and finally under it.
"I don't understand," he stammered, "where that napkin can be. I'm justas sure I had it and now I'm just as sure I ain't got it. What do yous'pose I done with it?"
"Goodness knows! 'Twouldn't surprise me if you'd et it, you're thatabsent-minded. Here! what's that stickin' out of your breast pocket?"
Her brother put his hand to the pocket indicated and produced themissing napkin, much crumpled.
"There!" he exclaimed, in a tone of relief. "Now I remember. It musthave dropped on the floor and I thought 'twas my handkerchief and pickedit up and--"
"What did you think you'd be carryin' a white handkerchief for, on aweek day?"
"Well, I had on my Sunday suit and--"
"Yes, and for the dear mercy sakes WHY have you got it on?"
Kyan saw an opportunity for self-justification.
"You TOLD me to put it on," he declared triumphantly. "You said yourselfI'd better rig out in my Sunday clothes 'cause we might go to Eben'sfuneral. You know you did."
"Hear the man! And then, after you've dressed up to go to his funeral,you pretend to believe I'm goin' to tell you he's dead. I never--"
"Well, what IS it, then? He ain't come to life, has he?"
"Grace Van Horne's engaged to be married, that's what it is. Look out!Oh, you--"
Just here occurred the accident already described. Knife and fish balldescended upon the waistcoat belonging to the "Sunday suit." Laviniaflew for warm water, ammonia, and a cloth, and the soiled waistcoatwas industriously scrubbed. The cleansing process was accompanied by alively tongue lashing, to which Kyan paid little attention.
"Engaged?" he kept repeating. "Gracie Van Horne engaged? Engaged? En--"
"Be still, you poll parrot! Dear! dear! dear! look at them spots. Yes,yes; don't say it again; she's engaged."
"Who--who--who--"
"Now you've turned to an owl, I do believe. 'Hoo! hoo!' She's engaged toNat Hammond, that's who. Nothin' very surprisin' about that, is there?"
Kyan made no answer. He rubbed his forehead, while his sister rubbed thegrease spots. In jerky sentences she told of the engagement and how thenews had reached her.
"I can't believe it," faltered Abishai. "She goin' to marry Nat! Why, Ican't understand. I thought--"
"What did you think? See here! you ain't keepin' anything from me, beyou?"
The answer was enthusiastically emphatic.
"No, no, no, no!" declared Kyan. "Only I didn't know they was--was--"
"Neither did anybody else, but what of it? Folks don't usually advertisewhen they're keepin' comp'ny, do they?"
"No--o. But it's gen'rally found out. I know if I was keepin'comp'ny--or you was, La-viny--"
His sister started.
"What makes you say that?" she demanded, looking quickly up from herrubbing.
"Why, nothin'. Only if I was--or you was, somebody'd see somethin'suspicious and kind of drop a hint, and--"
"Better for them if they 'tended to their own affairs," was the sharpanswer. "I ain't got any patience with folks that's always talkin' abouttheir neighbor's doin's. There! now you go out and stand alongside thecook stove till that wet place dries. Don't you move till 'TIS dry,neither."
So to the kitchen went Kyan, to stand, a sort of living clotheshorse,beside the hot range. But during the drying process he rubbed hisforehead many times. Remembering what he had seen in the grove he couldnot understand; but he also remembered, even more vividly, what KeziahCoffin had promised to do if he ever breathed a word. And he vowed againthat that word should not be breathed.
The death and funeral of Captain Eben furnished Trumet with a subject ofconversation for a week or more. Then, at the sewing circle and at thestore and after prayer meeting, both at the Regular meeting house andthe Come-Outer chapel, speculation centered on the marriage of Nat andGrace. When was it to take place? Would the couple live at the old houseand "keep packet tavern" or would the captain go to sea again, takinghis bride with him? Various opinions, pro and con, were expressed by thespeculators, but no one could answer authoritatively, because none knewexcept those most interested, and the latter would not tell.
John Ellery heard the discussions at the sewing circle when, in companywith some of the men of his congregation, he dropped in at thesegatherings for tea after the sewing was over. He heard them at church,before and after the morning service, and when he made pastoral calls.People even asked his opinion, and when he changed the subject inferred,some of them, that he did not care about the doings of Come-Outers. Thenthey switched to inquiries concerning his health.
"You look awful peaked lately, Mr. Ellery," said Didama Rogers. "Ain'tyou feelin' well?"
The minister answered that he was as well as usual, or thought he was.
"No, no, you ain't nuther," declared Didama. "You look's if you wascomin' down with a spell of somethin'. I ain't the only one that'snoticed it. Why, Thankful Payne says to me only yesterday, 'Didama,'says she, 'the minister's got somethin' on his mind and it's wearin' ofhim out.' You ain't got nothin' on your mind, have you, Mr. Ellery?"
"I guess not, Mrs. Rogers. It's a beautiful afternoon, isn't it?
"There! I knew you wa'n't well. A beautiful afternoon, and it hotter'nfuryation and gettin' ready to rain at that! Don't tell me! 'Tain't yourmind, Mr. Ellery, it's your blood that's gettin' thin. My husband had aspell just like it a year or two afore he died, and the doctor saidhe needed rest and a change. Said he'd ought to go away somewheres byhimself. I put my foot down on THAT in a hurry. 'The idea!' Isays. 'You, a sick man, goin' off all alone by yourself to die oflonesomeness. If you go, I go with you.' So him and me went up to Bostonand it rained the whole week we was there, and we set in a little box ofa hotel room with a window that looked out at a brick wall, and set andset and set, and that's all. I kept talkin' to him to cheer him up, buthe never cheered. I'd talk to him for an hour steady and when I'dstop and ask a question he'd only groan and say yes, when he meant no.Finally, I got disgusted, after I'd asked him somethin' four or fivetimes and he'd never answered, and I told him, I believed he was gettin'deef. 'Lordy!' he says, 'I wish I was!' Well, that was enough for ME.Says I, 'If your mind's goin' to give out we'd better be home.' So homewe come. And that's all the good change and rest done HIM. Hey? What didyou say, Mr. Ellery?"
"Er--oh, nothing, nothing, Mrs. Rogers."
"Yes. So home we come and I'd had enough of doctors to last. I figgeredout that his blood was thinnin' and I knew what was good for that. Mygreat Aunt Hepsy, that lived over to East Wellmouth, she was a greathand for herbs and such and she'd give me a receipt for thickenin' theblood that was somethin' wonderful. It had more kind of healin' herbs init than you could shake a stick at. I cooked a kittleful and got him totake a dose four times a day. He made more fuss than a young one abouttakin' it. Said it tasted like the Evil One, and such profane talk, andthat it stuck to his mouth so's he couldn't relish his vittles; but Inever let up a mite. He had to take it and it done him a world of good.Now I've got that receipt yet, Mr. Ellery, and I'll make some of thatmedicine for you. I'll fetch it down to-morrow. Yes, yes, I will. I'magoin' to, so you needn't say no. And perhaps I'll have heard somethin'about Cap'n Nat and Grace by that time."
She brought the medicine, and the minister promptly, on her departure,handed it over to Keziah, who disposed of it just as promptly.
"What did I do with it?" repeated the housekeeper. "Well, I'll tell you.I was kind of curious to see what 'twas like, so I took a teaspoonful.I did intend to pour the rest of it out in the henyard, but after thattaste I had too much regard for the hens. So I carried it way downto the pond and threw it in, jug and all. B-r-r-r! Of all the messesthat--I used to wonder what made Josh Rogers go moonin' round makin' hislips go as if he was crazy. I thought he was talkin' to himself, but nowI know better, he was TASTIN'. B-r-r-r!"
Ke
ziah was the life of the gloomy parsonage. Without her the ministerwould have broken down. Time and time again he was tempted to give up,in
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