At the open door stood a short, stout old lady, in a homespun brown linsey gown, a white apron, and a white cap.
She had seen the approach of visitors from her window, and had come out to welcome them.
“How do? How do?” she exclaimed, holding out both hands and shaking them, right and left. “How dee do? Why, I’m mighty proud to see you! Come in! Come in out’n the cold!” she added, as she led her visitors through the front door that opened immediately into the principal room of the house.
It was a large, homely room, with whitewashed walls, bare floor, large open fireplace, and two front windows, shaded with blue paper blinds. It was plainly furnished with a pine table, chip chairs, corner cupboard, tall clock, and all the usual features of the rustic parlor. Its great redeeming point was the glowing fire of oak logs that burned in the broad chimney.
“Come right here and sit down, and get a good warm before you take off your things. Make yourself comfortable, sez I! never mind looks,” said Miss Sibby, drawing chairs close to the hearth for her half frozen guests.
“So Roland has come home, I hear, Miss Sibby,” began Mrs. Hedge, as she stretched her benumbed fingers over the fire.
“Yes, he has, safe and sound; thanks be to the Lord! He got home the very selfsame day that young Le Force arrove; though nyther of them knowed anything about the other’s coming ’til they met by accident at old Luke Barriere’s store. Now, wasn’t that a coinference? ‘Truth is stranger nor friction,’ sez I.”
“Is he going to sea again, Miss Sibby?” inquired Miss Grandiere.
“Well, I reckon sooner or later he must go, if he won’t do nothing else. A young youth must do something for a living, sez I; and if he don’t do one thing he must do another, sez I. But I do hope next time as he may get a berth along of your brother George. When is Capting Grandiere expected home?”
“I don’t know. He was at Rio de Janeiro when we heard from him last.”