"That's true enough," conceded Captain Benjamin. "Still, I'll bet you a nickel was you to come down hard on Eleazer, an' tell him that in future he'd have to choose 'twixt undertakin' an' courtin', he'd pick the courtin'. He's human. You can't press a man too hard. Besides, you've no right to blame that mix-up 'bout the engine-house key on him, Cap'n Phineas. Give the devil his due. Eleazer warn't responsible for that. His sister borrowed the brass polish for her candle-sticks an' afterward slipped the key into her pocket by mistake. Remember that? At the minute the fire broke out she was leadin' a women's missionary meetin' at the church an' was in the act of prayin' for the heathens out in China. It didn't seem decent to interrupt either her or the Lord. Unluckily the prayer turned out to be an uncommon long one an' in consequence the chemical got delayed."
"Well, anyhow, I'm glad this niece of Marcia's come," broke in Lemuel Gill, shifting the subject. "She's a pleasant little critter an' will kinder stir things up."
"Oh, there's no danger but she'll do that all right, Lemmy," Zenas Henry drawled. "You can generally depend on a pretty girl to raise a rumpus. Give her a month in town an' she'll most likely have all the male population cuttin' one another's throats."
Fortunately both Marcia and Sylvia were at the moment too far out of ear-shot for this menacing prediction to reach them. Cut off by curtains of fog and a tide that foamed through the channel, they were standing in the homestead kitchen.
The builder of it would have laughed to scorn the present day apology for an interior so delightful.
Here was a room boasting space enough for an old-fashioned brick oven; an oil stove; two sand-scrubbed tables, snow white and smooth as satin; a high-backed rocker cushioned in red calico; braided rugs and shelves for plants. A regal kitchen truly--one that bespoke both comfort and hospitality.
The copper tea kettle, singing softly and sending up a genial spiral of steam, gleamed bright as sunshine; and the two big pantries, through which one glimpsed rows of shining tins and papered shelves laden with china, contributed to the general atmosphere of homeliness.
Fog might shroud the outer world in its blanket of unreality, but it was powerless to banish from Marcia's kitchen the cheer which perpetually reigned there.
