Hepsey Burke

by Frank N. Westcott

So Hepsey laid down lines for control of the meeting, ready with a different variety of expedients, from point to point in its progress, as Sylvester Bascom’s attitude at the time might necessitate. For she felt very little anxiety as to her ability to carry the main body of the audience along with her.

The night of the meeting the Sunday School Room, adjacent to the church, was filled full to a seat at least a quarter of an hour before the time announced for the meeting. Hepsey had provided herself with a chair in the center of the front row, directly facing the low platform to be occupied by the chairman. Her leather bag hung formidably on one arm, and a long narrow blank book was laid on her lap. She took little notice of her surroundings, and her anxiety 287 was imperceptible, as she thrummed with a pencil upon the book, glancing now and then at the side door, watching for Bascom’s entrance. The meeting buzzed light conversation, as a preliminary. Had she miscalculated on the very first move? Was he going to treat the whole affair with lofty disdain? As the hour struck, dead silence reigned in the room, expectant; and Jonathan, who sat next her, fidgeted nervously.

“Five minutes’ grace, and that’s all; if he’s not here by then, it’ll be up to you to call the meetin’ to order,” whispered Hepsey.

“Sakes!” hissed the terrified Junior Warden, “you didn’t say nothin’ about that, Hepsey,” he protested.

She leveled a withering glance at him, and was about to reduce him to utter impotence by some scathing remark, when both were startled by a voice in front of them, issuing from “the chair.” Silently the Senior Warden had entered, and had proceeded to open the meeting. His face was set and stern, and his voice hard and toneless. No help from that quarter, Hepsey mentally recorded.

“As the rector of this parish is not able to be present I have been asked to preside at this meeting. I believe that it was instigated—that is suggested, by some of the ladies who believe that there are some 288 matters of importance which need immediate attention, and must be presented to the congregation without delay. I must beg to remind these ladies that the Wardens and Vestrymen are the business officers of the church; and it seems to my poor judgment that if any business is to be transacted, the proper way would be for the Vestry to take care of it. However, I have complied with the request and have undertaken to preside, in the absence of the rector. The meeting is now open for business.”

Bascom sat down and gazed at the audience, but with a stare so expressionless as gave no further index to his mood. For some time there was a rather painful silence; but at last Hepsey Burke arose and faced about to command the audience.

“Brethren and sisters,” she began, “a few of us women have made up our minds that it’s high time that somethin’ was done towards payin’ our rector what we owe him, and that we furnish him with a proper house to live in.”

At this point, a faint murmur of applause interrupted the speaker, who replied: “There. There. Don’t be too quick. You won’t feel a bit like applaudin’ when I get through. It’s a burnin’ shame and disgrace that we owe Mr. Maxwell about two hundred dollars, which means a mighty lot to him, 289 because if he was paid in full every month he would get just about enough to keep his wife and himself from starvin’ to death. I wasn’t asked to call this meetin’; I asked the rector to, and I asked the Senior Warden to preside. And I told the rector that some of us—both men and women—had business to talk about that wasn’t for his ears. For all he knows, we’re here to pass a vote of censure on him. The fact is that we have reached the point where somethin’ has got to be done right off quick; and if none of the Vestrymen do it, then a poor shrinkin’ little woman like myself has got to rise and mount the band wagon. I’m no woman’s rights woman, but I have a conscience that’ll keep me awake nights until I have freed my mind.”

Here Hepsey paused, and twirling her pencil between her lips, gazed around at her auditors who were listening with breathless attention. Then she suddenly exclaimed with suppressed wrath, and in her penetrating tones: