Captain Pott's Minister Part 47

"Yes. You see, I kind of wanted to hear myself say it, because I'd made up my mind that way."

An exclamation from the kitchen interrupted what the seaman was doing.

The minister had retired thither to clear the mist from his eyes which had gathered there at signs of spring-time in the fall of these dear old lives. He now stood in the door, holding a dripping coffee-pot.

"Oh, my coffee!" cried the housekeeper. "It's boiled all over the place."

"Drat the coffee. Let her b'ile!"

Boil it certainly had, over the stove, on to the floor, and had collected in a puddle at the threshold.

"That's what comes of not attending to your cooking," observed the practical Miss Pipkin. The other Miss Pipkin, who had been sleeping for years in the living sepulcher of her heart, was saying and doing many things quite different.

From the cross-roads came the sound of the church-bell, calling the people of Little River Parish to worship.

"There's the bell!" exclaimed Miss Pipkin. "It's only a half-hour before service. If you'll excuse me, Mack, I don't think I'll go this morning.

You don't mind if I call you Mack here at home, do you?"

"I want you to call me that, Aunt Clemmie." He gave her a hurried kiss, and started toward his room. At the corner of the upset table he paused.

"If I didn't have to preach this morning I'd stay home, too."

"You mean you'd go walking down 'long the beach," corrected the Captain.

Miss Pipkin looked oddly at her lover. "Be they engaged?"

"They was, but I guess they ain't."

"What do you mean?"

"Jim came nigh sp'iling things last night. Mack said they'd call it all off till he found out more about his people. He was 'feared from what Jim had said to him that he had no right to love Beth. I cal'late he see that it was right enough to go ahead afore I got through with him this morning."

"Josiah, he'll marry us, won't he?"

"You just bet he will!"

"Ain't it funny he never said nothing about being glad we was engaged?"

"We ain't told him."

"But he saw."

"Script're says something about having eyes and seeing not, and having ears and hearing not. Mack's as nigh to obeying the sayings of Script're as any one I know."

"That's so, Josiah. He is so good without trying to be," declared Miss Pipkin. She lifted a hand to each of the old man's shoulders, and he put his arms about her. "Do you believe in the care of Providence, Josiah, and in the guiding hand of G.o.d?"

The Captain tightened his embrace, and one of the bony hands of the housekeeper slipped into the knotty fingers about her waist.

"I'm larning to, Clemmie, but I'm going to need a heap of help. I ain't used to these religious channels, and I cal'late you'll have to take the helm right often."

They had not heard the sound of footsteps in the outer room. It was Mrs.

Beaver's voice that caused them to start.

"I thought I'd come over to borrow some----"

Mrs. Beaver stopped short on the threshold, looked at the Captain and the housekeeper, and began to retreat. The practical Miss Pipkin was the first to recover speech.

"Come on right in, Mrs. Beaver. That's a silly thing for me to say, seeing you're already in. But what is it you'd like to borrow?"

Mrs. Beaver continued to retreat and stare. She saw the puddle of coffee on the floor. She eyed with interest the upset table. She saw that the Captain was undetermined what he ought to do with his hands. She watched him as he stumbled backward into the cupboard. Her face was a study.

"What was it you was going to ask for, Eadie?" asked the seaman, trying to appear unconcerned in his decided embarra.s.sment.

"Well, I never!" exclaimed Mrs. Beaver.

"We're engaged," announced Miss Pipkin in matter-of-fact tones.

"Engaged! You and----"

"Yes, she and me," finished the Captain eagerly.

Mrs. Beaver's hands dropped helplessly to her sides.

"Is there anything more you'd like to know?" asked Miss Pipkin kindly, as she crossed the room and put an arm about the spare figure of her neighbor. "We're that happy that I wanted you to know, and I'm real glad you come over when you did."

"Anything else I want to know?" she asked. "I should say there is. What has happened to Harry? He come home last night all different, talking for the minister till I couldn't get a word in edgewise. It was awful late, too. And he told me that Sim Hicks had left town, or was going this morning."

"I cal'late some one's clothed Harry in his right mind. You know, Eadie, that's Script're. Sim has took a trip for his health."

"And Harry tells me that Mr. Fox is for the minister, too. Something must have happened."

"Yes, something has happened. Eadie, you rec'lect that time when you fust spoke to me about the minister staying in my house you said I'd be in the way of the Lord if I'd do it. I wa'n't very pleasant to you for going ahead and doing it while I was away, but you sartin did what Providence wanted that time."

Mrs. Beaver did not attempt to reply.

"What was it you wanted to borrow?"

She looked from the one to the other, and made this comment: "I'm mighty glad for the both of you. You're good, and you both deserve what you've got." She kissed Miss Pipkin on the cheek, and turned toward the door.

"Eadie, what was it you come for?" asked the housekeeper in a strange voice.

"I come over for a pinch of salt, but----"

"Give her the hull sack, dear," ordered the Captain.

"I guess--I think----I really don't need the salt," stammered Mrs.

Beaver.

"Here, Eadie, don't go off mad. I didn't mean anything by what I said.

I'd give half what I own this morning to a hobo if he'd ask for a crust of bread."