being continually obliged to state
the reason for his needing a housekeeper. The only hope, it seemed, lay
in going to Saco and hiring a stranger, a plan not at all to his liking,
as it was sure to involve him in extra expense.
Muttering threats against the universe in general, he drove home by way
of Milliken's Mills, thinking of the unfed hens, the unmilked cow, the
unwashed dishes, the unchurned cream and above all of his unchastened
daughters; his rage increasing with every step until it was nearly at
the white heat of the night before.
A long stretch of hill brought the tired old mare to a slow walk, and
enabled the Deacon to see the Widow Tillman clipping the geraniums that
stood in tin cans on the shelf of her kitchen window.
Now, Foxwell Baxter had never been a village Lothario at any age, nor
frequented the society of such. Of late years, indeed, he had frequented
no society of any kind, so that he had missed, for instance, Abel
Day's description of the Widow Tillman as a "reg'lar syreen," though he
vaguely remembered that some of the Baptist sisters had questioned the
authenticity of her conversion by their young and attractive minister.
She made a pleasant picture at the window; she was a free woman (a
little too free, the neighbors would have said; but the Deacon didn't
know that); she was a comparative newcomer to the village, and her
mind had not been poisoned with feminine gossip--in a word, she was a
distinctly hopeful subject, and, acting on a blind and sudden impulse,
he turned into the yard, 'dung the reins over the mare's neck, and
knocked at the back door.
"Her character 's no worse than mine by now if Aunt Abby Cole's on the
road," he thought grimly, "an' if the Wilsons see my sleigh inside of
widder's fence, so much the better; it'll give 'em a jog.--Good morning
Mis' Tillman," he said to the smiling lady. "I'll come to the p'int at
once. My youngest daughter has married Mark Wilson against my will, an'
gone away from town, an' the older one's chosen a husband still less to
my likin'. Do you want to come and housekeep for me?"
"I surmised something was going on," re-turned Mrs. Tillman. "I saw
Patty and Mark drive away early this morning, with Mr. and Mrs. Wilson
wrapping the girl up and putting a hot soapstone in the sleigh, and
consid'able kissing and hugging thrown in."
This knowledge added fuel to the flame that was burning fiercely in the
Deacon's breast. "Well, how about the hou
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