After luncheon Mr. Keith and the Captain left the house together.
“Goin' to attend to that little mite of business I spoke to you about,
Mary-'Gusta,” explained Shadrach, confidentially. “We'll be back pretty
soon. I cal'late maybe you'd better wait here, that is,” with a glance
at Mrs. Wyeth, “if it'll be all right for you to.”
“Of course it will be all right,” declared Mrs. Wyeth promptly. “I shall
be glad to have her.”
“Thank you, ma'am. If she won't be in the way I--”
“If she were likely to be in the way I should say so. She won't be.”
“Yes--er--yes, ma'am,” stammered Shadrach. “Thank you, ma'am.”
When he and Mr. Keith were out of the house he drew a long breath.
“Judas!” he observed, feelingly. “Say, that cousin of yours don't waste
any words, does she? When it comes to speakin' what's in her mind she
don't fool around none. She's as right up and down as a schooner's
fo'mast.”
Keith laughed heartily. “Emily is blunt and outspoken,” he said. “She
prides herself on that. But she is as square as a brick. She never says
one thing to your face and another behind your back.”
“No, I--I judge that's so. Well, that's all right; I ain't got any
objections to that way of talkin' myself. But say, if every woman was
like her there wouldn't be many sewin' circles, would there? The average
sewin' circle meetin' is one part sew and three parts what So-and-so
said.”
When the little mite of business had been transacted and the pair
returned to the Wyeth house they found Mrs. Wyeth and Mary-'Gusta
awaiting them in the parlor. The girl had the feeling that she had
been undergoing a rather vigorous cross-examination. Mrs. Wyeth had not
talked a great deal herself and her manner, though brusque and matter
of fact, was kind; but she had asked questions about Mary-'Gusta's home
life, about Captain Gould and Mr. Hamilton, about school and friends and
acquaintances. And her comments, when she made any, were direct and to
the point.
She and Mr. Keith exchanged looks when the latter entered the room.
Keith raised his eyebrows inquiringly. She nodded as if giving emphatic
assent to his unspoken question.
Shadrach and Mary-'Gusta left the house soon afterward. While the
Captain and Mr. Keith were whispering together in the hall, Mrs. Wyeth
bade the girl good-by.
“I like you, my dear,” said the lady. “You seem to be a sweet, sensible
girl, and I don't meet as many of that kind nowadays as I could wish. I
am sure we shall be good friends.”
“And WHAT did she mean by that?” demanded Mary-'Gusta, as she and the
Captain walked along Pinckney Street together. “Why should we be good
friends? Probably I'll never meet her again.”
Shadrach smiled. “Oh, you can't always tell,” he said. “Sometimes you
meet folks oftener'n you think in this world.”
Mary-'Gusta looked at him. “Uncle Shad,” she said, “what does all this
mean, anyway? Why did you go to her house? And what was the mysterious
business of yours with Mr. Keith?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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