That was Kyan's sole venture, so far as sailoring was concerned, but he
ran away again when he was twenty-five. This time he returned of his
own accord, bringing a wife with him, one Evelyn Gott of Ostable. Evelyn
could talk a bit herself, and her first interview with Lavinia ended
with the latter's leaving the house in a rage, swearing never to set
foot in it again. This oath she broke the day of her sister-in-law's
funeral. Then she appeared, after the ceremony, her baggage on the wagon
with her. The bereaved one, who was sitting on the front stoop of his
dwelling with, so people say, a most resigned expression on his meek
countenance, looked up and saw her.
“My land! Laviny,” he exclaimed, turning pale. “Where'd you come from?”
“Never mind WHERE I come from,” observed his sister promptly. “You just
be thankful I've come. If ever a body needed some one to take care of
'em, it's you. You can tote my things right in,” she added, turning to
her grinning driver, “and you, 'Bishy, go right in with 'em. The idea
of your settin' outside takin' it easy when your poor wife ain't been
buried more'n an hour!”
“But--but--Laviny,” protested poor Kyan, speaking the truth unwittingly,
“I couldn't take it easy AFORE she was buried, could I?”
“Go right in,” was the answer. “March!”
Abishai marched, and had marched under his sister's orders ever since.
She kept house for him, and did it well, but her one fear was that some
female might again capture him, and she watched him with an eagle
eye. He was the town assessor and tax collector, but when he visited
dwellings containing single women or widows, Lavinia always accompanied
him, “to help him in his figgerin',” she said.
Consequently, when he appeared, unchaperoned, on the walk leading to the
side door of the Coffin homestead, Keziah and her friend were surprised.
“He's dressed to kill,” whispered Grace, at the window. “Even his tall
hat; and in this fog! I do believe he's coming courting, Aunt Keziah.”
“Humph!” was the ungracious answer. “He's come to say good-by, I s'pose,
and to find out where I'm goin' and how much pay I'm goin' to get and if
my rent's settled, and a few other little things that ain't any of
his business. Laviny put him up to it, you see. She'll be along pretty
quick. Well, I'll fix him so he won't talk much. He can help us take
down that stovepipe. I said 'twas a job for a man, and a half one's
better than none--Why, how d'ye do, 'Bishy? Come right in. Pretty thick
outside, isn't it?”
Mr. Pepper entered diffidently.
“Er--er--how d'ye do, Keziah?” he stammered. “I thought I'd just run in
a minute and--”
“Yes, yes. Glad to see you. Take off your hat. My sakes! it's pretty
wet. How did Laviny come to let you--I mean how'd you come to wear a
beaver such a mornin's this?”
Kyan removed the silk hat and inspected its limp grandeur ruefully.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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