Hepsey Burke. Frank Nash Westcott

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СКАЧАТЬ why a man can’t do that kind of thing like a woman can? He knows somethin’s wrong, but he can’t tell what it is.”

      Hepsey had almost forgotten her errand; but now that her work was done it came back to her with sudden force; so, puckering up her lips and scowling severely at the carpet, she began:

      “The fact is, Jonathan, I didn’t come over here to dust the parlor or to jolly you. I’ve come to have a confidential talk with you about a matter of great importance.”

      “What is it, Hepsey?”

      “Matrimony.”

      Jonathan started eagerly, and colored with self-conscious embarrassment; and after clearing his throat, nervously inquired:

      “Did you think of contemplatin’ matrimony again, Hepsey?—though this ’aint leap year.”

      “I, contemplate matrimony? Oh, land of Gideon, 67 no. It’s about some one else. Don’t get scared. I’m no kidnapper!”

      “Well, who is it, then?” Jonathan inquired, with a touch of disappointment.

      “My adopted son.”

      “You don’t say! I’ve heard rumors about Maxwell and Virginia Bascom; but I didn’t take no stock in ’em, knowin’ Virginia.”

      “Virginia hasn’t nothin’ to do with it.”

      “Well, who has then, for land’s sake!”

      “I don’t know the girl’s name; but I saw her picture on his mantelpiece yesterday mornin’, and I’ve had my suspicions for some time.”

      “Well, I suppose his marryin’ ’aint none of our business anyway, be it?”

      “Yes, it is our business; if he’s goin’ to get married, the rectory’s got to be fixed over a whole lot ’fore it’s fit to live in. You know the Senior Warden won’t lift his finger, and you’ve got to help me do it.”

      Jonathan sighed profoundly, knowing from past experience that Hepsey’s word carried more weight than all the vestry.

      “I suppose I have, if you say so, Hepsey.”

      “Yes sir, you’ve got to help me do it. No decent girl is goin’ into that house as it is, with my consent. It’s the worst old rat-trap I ever saw. I’ve got the 68 key, and I’m goin’ through it this afternoon, and then I’m goin’ to plan what ought to be done.”

      “But it seems to me you’re venturin’ some. You don’t know they’re goin’ to be married.”

      “No, but all the symptoms point that way, and we’ve got to be prepared for it.”

      “But the people round town seem to think that Virginia has a first mortgage on the rector already.”

      “No doubt she thinks she has; but it ’aint true. He’s made a blunder, though, not announcin’ his engagement, and I’m goin’ to tell him so the first chance I get. I don’t see why he should air his private affairs all over the town, but if he don’t announce his engagement before long, Virginia Bascom’ll make an awful row when he does.”

      “Yes, and to the best of my knowledge and belief this’ll be her fifth row.”

      “Well, you meet me at the rectory at two o’clock sharp.”

      “But we ought to consult the vestry first,” the Junior Warden cautioned her.

      “What for, I’d like to know?”

      “’Cause they are the trustees of the property.”

      “Then why don’t they ’tend to the property? The vestry are a lot of–” 69

      “Sh! Hepsey, be careful. I’ll be there, I’ll be there!”

      Mrs. Burke rose and started for the door; but Jonathan called out to her:

      “Hepsey, can’t you stay to dinner? I’d like awful well to have you. It would seem so nice and homelike to see you sittin’ opposite me at the table.”

      “Am I to consider this a proposal of marriage, Jonathan?”

      “Well, I hadn’t thought of it in that light; but if you would, I’d be mighty thankful.”

      But Hepsey was beating her retreat.

      Jonathan stood for a minute or two in the middle of the room and looked very sober. Slowly he took off his coat and put on his dressing gown. Then he sat down, and cautiously put his feet in another chair. Next he lighted a cigar—gazing about the room as if his late wife might appear at any moment as an avenging deity, and drag him into the kitchen where he belonged. But nothing happened, and he began to feel a realization of his independence. He sat and thought for a long time, and a mighty hunger of the heart overwhelmed him. Before he knew it, a tear or two had fallen on the immaculate carpet; and then, suddenly recollecting himself, he stood up, saying to himself—such is the consistency of man: 70

      “Sarah was a good soul accordin’ to her lights; but she’s dead, and I must confess I’m powerful reconciled. Hepsey Burke’s different. I wonder if–”

      But he put he thought away from him with a “get thee behind me” abruptness, and putting on his coat, went out to water the stock.

      CHAPTER VI

      THE MISSIONARY TEA

      “Hm!” Mrs. Burke remarked to Maxwell abruptly one day during supper. “We haven’t had a missionary tea since you came, and I think it’s high time we did.”

      “What sort of a missionary tea do you mean?” the parson inquired.

      “Well,” Mrs. Burke responded, “our missionary teas combine different attractions. We get together and look over each other’s clothes; that’s the first thing; then some one reads a paper reportin’ how 72 things is goin’ in Zanzibar, or what’s doin’ in Timbuctoo. Then we look over the old clothes sent in for missionaries, mend ’em up, and get ’em ready to send off. Then we have tea and cake. I’ve had my misgivin’ for some time that perhaps we cared more for the tea and cake than we did for the heathen; but of course I put such a wicked thought aside. If you value your reputation for piety, don’t you ever speak of a missionary tea here except in a whisper.”

      “But I suppose the tea helps to get people together and be more sociable?”

      “Certainly. The next best thing to religion is a cup of strong tea and a frosted cake, to make us country people friends. Both combined can’t be beat. But you ought to see the things that have been sent in this last week for the missionary box. There’s a smoking jacket, two pairs of golf-trousers, several pairs of mismated gloves, a wonderful lot of undarned stockings, bonnets and underclothes to burn, two jackets and a bathin’ suit. I wonder what people think missionaries are doin’ most of the time!”

      On the day appointed for the missionary tea the ladies were to assemble at Thunder Cliff at four o’clock; and when Maxwell came home, before the advent of the first guest, he seemed somewhat depressed; and Mrs. Burke inquired: 73

      “Been makin’ calls on your parishioners?”

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