Keziah Coffin | Page 9

knees. His hair was streaked with black; his shirt front and collar and shirt sleeves were spotted and smeared with black; and from his blackened cheeks his red whiskers flamed like the last glowing embers in a fire-scarred ruin.
"Laviny," he panted, "I never was so surprised and upsot in all my life afore."
This was too much for Grace. She collapsed in a chair and laughed hysterically. Even the wrathful Keziah smiled. But Lavinia did not smile. For that matter, neither did her brother.
"Hum!" sneered Miss Pepper. "Upsot! Yes, I see you're upsot. Get up, and try to look as much like a Christian as you can!"
Kyan rose from his knees to his feet and rubbed his back. He glanced reproachfully at Grace, then fearfully at his sister.
"I was just tryin' to help Keziah take down her stovepipe," he explained. "You see, she didn't have no man to--"
"Yes, I see. Well, I judge you got it down. Now you go out to the sink and wash your face. Heavens and earth! Look at them clothes!"
"I do hope you didn't hurt yourself, Abishai," said the sympathetic Keziah. Then, as remembrance of what had led to the upset came to her, she added: "Though I will say 'twas your own fault and nobody else's."
Lavinia whirled on her.
"His own fault, was it?" she repeated, her voice shrill and trembling. "Thank you very much, marm. I cal'late 'twas his own fault comin' here, too, wa'n't it? Nobody led him on, I s'pose. Nobody put him up to riggin' out in his best bib and tucker and sneakin' here the minute I was out of the house. No, nobody did! Of COURSE not!"
"No, nobody did," said Keziah briskly. "And you may know what you're hintin' at, but I don't."
"Dear me! Ain't we innocent! We've got plenty of money, WE have. Widowers with property ain't no attraction to US. Everybody knows that--oh, yes! And they never talk of such a thing--oh, no! Folks don't say that--that-- Well," with a snarl in the direction of the kitchen, "are you anywheres nigh clean yet? Get your coat and hat on and come home with me."
She jerked her brother into the blue coat, jammed the tall hat down upon his head, and, seizing him by the arm, stalked to the door.
"Good day, marm," she said. "I do hope the next widower you get to take down your stovepipe--yes, indeed! ha! ha!--I hope you'll have better luck with him. Though I don't know who 'twould be; there ain't no more idiots in town that I know of. Good day, and thank you kindly for your attentions to our family."
She pulled the door open and was on the step; but Mrs. Coffin did not intend to let her go in just that way.
"Laviny Pepper," she declared, her eyes snapping, "I don't know what you're talkin' about, but if you dare to mean that I want any of your money, or your brother's money, you're mistaken--'cause I don't. And I don't want your brother either--Lord help him, poor thing! And I tell you right now that there's nobody that does; though some kind-hearted folks have said 'twould be a Christian act to poison him, so's to put him out of his misery. There! Good mornin' to you."
She slammed the door. Lavinia was speechless. As for her brother, but one remark of his reached Grace, who was watching from the window.
"Laviny," pleaded Kyan, "just let me explain."
At nine o'clock that night he was still "explaining."
Keziah turned from the door she had closed behind her visitor.
"Well!" she ejaculated. "WELL!"
Her friend did not look at her. She was still gazing out of the window. Occasionally she seemed to choke.
Keziah eyed her suspiciously.
"Humph!" she mused. "'Twas funny, wasn't it?"
"Oh, dreadfully!" was the hurried answer.
"Yes. Seems to me you took an awful long time findin' that hammer."
"It was away back in the drawer. I didn't see it at first."
"Hum! Grace Van Horne, if I thought you heard what that--that THING said to me, I'd--I'd-- Good land of mercy! somebody ELSE is comin'."
Steps, measured, dignified steps, sounded on the walk. From without came a "Hum--ha!" a portentous combination of cough and grunt. Grace dodged back from the window and hastily began donning her hat and jacket.
"It's Cap'n Elkanah," she whispered. "I must go. This seems to be your busy morning, Aunt Keziah. I"--here she choked again-- "really, I didn't know you were so popular."
Keziah opened the door. Captain Elkanah Daniels, prosperous, pompous, and unbending, crossed the threshold. Richest man in the village, retired shipowner, pillar of the Regular church and leading member of its parish committee, Captain Elkanah looked the part. He removed his hat, cleared his throat behind his black stock, and spoke with impressive deliberation.
"Good morning, Keziah. Ah--er--morning, Grace." Even in the tone given to a perfunctory