"Yes'm, except that there wa'n't no particular disaster at sea and them

heathen women didn't exert no blandishments. They was jest pleasant to

an old feller, bless their little hearts."

By some subtle mental process, Mr. Ball became aware that he had made

a mistake. "You ain't changed nothin' here, Jane," he continued,

hurriedly, "there's the haircloth sofy that we used to set on Sunday

evenins' after meetin', and the hair wreath with the red rose in it made

out of my hair and the white rose made out of your grandmother's hair

on your father's side, and the yeller lily made out of the hair of your

Uncle Jed's youngest boy. I disremember the rest, but time was when I

could say'm all. I never see your beat for makin' hair wreaths, Jane.

There ain't nothin' gone but the melodeon that used to set by the

mantel. What's come of the melodeon?"

"The melodeon is set away in the attic. The mice et out the inside."

"Didn't you hev no cat?"

"There ain't no cat, James, that could get into a melodeon through a

mouse hole, more especially the big maltese you gave me. I kept that

cat, James, as you may say, all these weary years. When there was

kittens, I kept the one that looked most like old Malty, but of late

years, the cats has all been different, and the one I buried jest afore

I sailed away was yeller and white with black and brown spots--a kinder

tortoise shell--that didn't look nothin' like Malty. You'd never have

knowed they belonged to the same family, but I was sorry when she died,

on account of her bein' the last cat."

Hepsey, half frightened, put her head into the room. "Dinner's ready,"

she shouted, hurriedly shutting the door.

"Give me your arm, James," said Mrs. Ball, and Ruth followed them into

the dining-room.

The retired sailor ate heartily, casting occasional admiring glances

at Ruth and Hepsey. It was the innocent approval which age bestows upon

youth. "These be the finest biscuit," he said, "that I've had for many a

day. I reckon you made 'em, didn't you, young woman?"

"Yes, sir," replied Hepsey, twisting her apron.

The bride was touched in a vulnerable spot.

"Hepsey," she said, decisively, "when your week is up, you will no

longer be in my service. I am a-goin'to make a change."

Mr. Ball's knife dropped with a sharp clatter. "Why, Mis' Ball," he

said, reproachfully, "who air you goin' to hev to do your work?"

"Don't let that trouble you, James," she answered, serenely, "the

washin' can be put out to the Widder Pendleton, her as was Elmiry

Peavey, and the rest ain't no particular trouble."

"Aunty," said Ruth, "now that you've come home and everything is going

on nicely, I think I'd better go back to the city. You see, if I stay

here, I'll be interrupting the honeymoon."




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