It appeared as if the Captain would have to come another day, in another sort of vehicle, to carry home his newly-found housekeeper. He again led trumps.
“The minister come all the way over with me to get you.”
“He did?”
“Sartin did.”
“Poor thing! He’s been treated so scandalously that he’s willing to do ’most anything. Well, it may be the death of me, but I’ve got this far, and I may as well go on.”
Mr. McGowan was waiting for them at the end of the wharf. The skipper introduced 131 them with a malicious wink at Miss Pipkin as he indicated the physical strength of the minister. Her face flushed as nearly crimson as it had in years. When they finally got into the dory she leaned close to the Captain and set his staid old heart palpitating. Mr. McGowan was engaged, waving to the girls in the Jennie P.
“You ain’t going to tell him what I said about his being delicate, and the like, are you, Josiah?”
He answered with a vigorous shake of the head as he leaned back to draw the oars through the water. Each time he swung forward he looked into the eyes of Miss Pipkin. Did he imagine it, or did he see there something more than interest in her own question?
Aboard the Jennie P. the young ladies took charge of Miss Pipkin, and soon they were chatting companionably. The girls had removed the door to the cabin, and laying it from seat to seat, had improvised a table. Over it they had spread cloths, and on the cloths were plates piled high with good things. 132 The odor of coffee greeted the Captain’s nostrils, as he came forward after securing the dory.
“Well, I’d like to know! Where in tarnation did you get the stove to b’ile the coffee on?” he asked, sniffing the air.