“I am afraid, Asaph,” said his sister, “that if you have to do the work first you will never get the clothes, and so you might as well come back to my offer.”
Asaph came back to it and thought about it very earnestly. If by any chance he could get two suits of clothes, he would then feel that he had a head worth having. “What would you say,” he said, presently, “if when I wanted to smoke I was to put on a long duster—I guess Mr. Himes had dusters—and a nightcap and rubbers? I’d agree to hang the duster and the cap in the shed here and never smoke without putting ’em on.” There was a deep purpose in this proposition, for, enveloped in the long duster, he might sit with Thomas Rooper under the chestnut-tree and smoke and talk and plan as long as he pleased, and his companion would not know that he did not need a new suit of clothes.
“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Himes; “you must make up your mind to act perfectly fairly, Asaph, or else say you will not accept my offer. But if you don’t accept it, I can’t see how you can keep on living with me.”
“What do you mean by clothes, Marietta?” he asked.
“Well, I mean a complete suit, of course,” said she.
“Winter or summer?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Mrs. Himes replied; “but that can be as you choose.”
“Overcoat?” asked Asaph.
“Yes,” said she, “and cane and umbrella, if you like, and pocket-handkerchiefs, too. I will fit you out completely, and shall be glad to have you looking like a decent man.”
At the mention of the umbrella another line of perplexity showed itself upon Asaph’s brow. The idea came to him that if she would add a dictionary he would strike a bargain. Thomas Rooper was certainly a very undecided and uncertain sort of man. But then there came up the thought of his pipe, and he was all at sea again. Giving up smoking was almost the same as giving up eating. “Marietta,” said he, “I will think about this.”