They were longing to talk the visit over with Stella, but she was away when they reached the house, and Aunt Elsie asked no questions beyond an inquiry for Aunt Katharine’s health. It was at supper that the subject found its way into the family talk, and then Stella, who had just come in, opened it.
“Well, I hope you enjoyed your call on Aunt Katharine,” she said, smiling at her cousins.
“Of course we did,” said Kate, promptly. “You didn’t begin to tell us how interesting she is.”
“Oh, but you should have been there on a day when she and grandfather discussed things,” said Stella. “That’s the time when she really shows her quality.” She sent a demure glance at the old gentleman as she spoke. How she had become possessed of his intention to refrain from controversy is not certain, but somehow she had it.
He glanced with obvious embarrassment at his granddaughters. Then he set down his cup of tea, and faced his daughter-in-law. “Elsie,” he said, in a tone whose humility was really touching, “I meant to stand by what I said to you. I certainly did; but I couldn’t do it.” He cleared his throat and his tone grew firmer. “I couldn’t do it, and I don’t know as I shall be held responsible for it, either. The Bible says, ‘As much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men,’—and I s’pose that means women too,—but it don’t lie in me, and it never will, to keep my mouth shut while folks are advancing such notions as Katharine did this afternoon. I did contend with her; I certainly did.”
The Northmore girls could not keep straight faces, and Stella broke into a delighted giggle. “I’m sure ’twas your duty, grandpa, and I’m glad you did it,” she said. “What was it this time; woman’s rights, or the folly of getting married, or what?”
She glanced at her cousins as she asked the question, and Esther spoke first. “It was education partly, and the question whether women ought not to be as free as men to choose what they shall do. I must say that for my part I thought Aunt Katharine made some real good points, though of course she needn’t have been quite so bitter.”
“It was my speaking about Abner Sickles that stirred her up to begin with,” said the old gentleman, still addressing himself in half-apologetic tone to Aunt Elsie. “That put her in mind of his sister Abigail, and how she worked herself to death helping him through college.”
“I shouldn’t wonder if helping Abner was the greatest comfort the poor girl had,” observed Aunt Elsie.
The unemphatic way in which she sometimes made important suggestions was one of Aunt Elsie’s peculiarities. No one spoke for a minute, and she turned the conversation away from Aunt Katharine by suddenly asking a question on a wholly different subject.