“Quite right, Josiah. Good night.”
The Elder got out of the house and into the road in a stumbling fashion. He climbed the knoll to his estate, a saddened and broken old man, but with a relief of mind and heart that he had not known for years.
CHAPTER XIX
“Now, ain’t you a pair to look at, and you to give your sermon this morning, Mr. McGowan! You look a heap sight worse than Edna Splinter, and she’s been raving with a fever all night.”
Miss Pipkin made this observation while the three of them sat at breakfast Sunday morning.
The minister absent-mindedly asked concerning the condition of Miss Splinter.
“She ’peared to be a trifle easier this morning. But what’s ailing the both of you? Look as if you’d been setting up all night like two owls.”
“Cal’late we’re on our uppers, Clemmie. But we’ll be fit as fiddles when we get some of them cakes stowed amidships, and ballast ’em down with a few swallers of that coffee. There ain’t everybody that can b’ile coffee like you, Clemmie.”