And so she left the good Joe Boyd hooked on by the elbows to the fence. The Quimbeys, who had heard this conversation from within, derived from it no small elation. “She hev gin 'em the go-by fur good,” Timothy said, confidently, to his father, who laughed in triumph, and pulled calmly at his pipe, and looked ten years younger. But Steve was surlily anxious. “I'd place heap mo' dependence in Eveliny ef she didn't hev this hyar way o' cryin' all the time. She 'lows she's glad she kem--_so glad_ she hev lef Abs'lom fur good an' all--an' then she busts out a-cryin' agin. I ain't able ter argufy on sech.” “Shucks! wimmen air always a-cryin', an' they don't mean _nuthin'_ by it,” exclaimed the old man, in the plenitude of his wisdom. “It air jes' one o' thar most contrarious ways. I hev seen 'em set down an' cry fur joy an' pleasure.” But Steve was doubtful. “It be a powerful low-sperited gift fur them ez hev ter 'bide along of 'em. Eveliny never useter be tearful in nowise. Now she cries a heap mo' 'n that thar shoat”--his lips curled in contempt as he glanced toward the door, through which was visible a small rotund figure in pink calico, seated upon the lowest log of the wood-pile--“ez she fotched down hyar with her. _He_ never hev hed a reg'lar blate but two or three times sence he hev been hyar, an' them war when that thar old tur-rkey gobbler teetered up ter him an' tuk his corn-dodger that he war a-eatin' on plumb out'n his hand. _He_ hed suthin' to holler fur--hed los' his breakfus.” “Don't he 'pear ter you-uns to be powerful peeg-eon-toed?” asked Tim, anxiously, turning to his father. “The gawbbler?” faltered the amazed old man. “Naw; him, _him--Kittredge_,” said Tim, jerking his big thumb in the direction of the small boy. “Law-dy Gawd A'mighty! _naw! naw!_” The grandfather indignantly repudiated the imputation of the infirmity. One would have imagined that he would deem it meet that a Kittredge should be pigeon-toed. “It's jes the way _all_ babies hev got a-walkin'; he ain't right handy yit with his feet--jes a-beginnin' ter walk, an' sech. Peegeon-toed! I say it, ye fool!” He cast a glance of contempt on his eldest-born, and arrogantly puffed his pipe. Again Joe Boyd came, and yet again. He brought messages contrite and promissory from Absalom; he brought commands stern and insistent. He came into the house at last, and sat and talked at the fireside in the presence of the men of the family, who bore themselves in a manner calculated to impress the Kittredge emissary with their triumph and contempt for his mission, although they studiously kept silence, leaving it to Evelina to answer.