"Now, there, Phosie, what's the use of croaking?" said her sister. "Ora's young, and young things like a good time. Like as not she'll take up with somebody else before she thinks of getting married." Then to change the subject she remarked: "What do you think, Zerviah? Mr. Williams was up to Miss Elliott's cawtage this afternoon putting up window shades."
"I want to know!" ejaculated Zerviah, this information driving all other gossip out of her head. "I never knew him to take up with the summer people before. Did you, Phenie?"
"No, I can't say that I did, but he certainly has taken a shine to Miss Whitridge."
Miss Zerviah chuckled. This was a new item to stow away among her stores of information. "Mr. Williams is always real pleasant," she said. "I never knew anybody to say a word against him, but I can't say I ever knew him to be more'n polite to the new people, or, as a matter of fact, to anybody here on this island. He's been here going on to twenty year, Phenie, and I'll venture to say you don't know much more about him than when he came. He ain't a Maine man, I'll warrant." There was a little eagerness in her manner as she turned her eyes questioningly upon Miss Phenie.
"Well, he ain't communicative," returned Miss Phenie, "but he does talk about his childhood sometimes, and about what his father and mother used to say and do. Yes, he does talk a little, but he's a reserved man, Zerviah. He's not much of a talker at the best, though he's a great reader."
"And he's kind-hearted as he can be," interposed Miss Phosie. "He never lets me bring a stick of wood, nor a drop of water when he's 'round, and when father was laid up with rheumatiz last winter there wasn't nothin' he wasn't willin' to do. There's no kinder-hearted man in the State of Maine than him, and he's always that quiet in his speech. I never heard him use a profane word, not but what he can get mad when there's occasion, but he's too much of a gentleman to use an oath."
"That's just it," remarked Miss Zerviah, a little spitefully and with suggestive accent, "he's too much of a gentleman."
"Now, Zerviah," protested Miss Phosie, "how can you say so?"
"Say what? That he's too much of a gentleman. You said so, didn't you?"
"Not in the way you did. I said he was too much of a gentleman to swear, but you meant different."