Esther rose abruptly, peony-red with pleasurable confusion, and took the hand stretched out to her. “How d’ do, Mr. Beech,” she responded with eagerness, “I—I came up to see you—a—about something that’s very pressing.”
“It’s blowing up quite a gale outside,” the farmer remarked, evidently to gain time the while he scanned her face in a solemn, thoughtful way, noting, I doubt not, the swollen eyelids and stains of tears, and trying to guess her errand. “Shouldn’t wonder if we had a foot o’ snow before morning.”
The school-teacher seemed in doubt how best to begin what she had to say, so that Abner had time, after he lifted his inquiring gaze from her, to run a master’s eye over the table.
“Have Janey lay another place!” he said, with authoritative brevity.
As M’rye rose to obey, Esther broke forth: “Oh, no, please don’t! Thank you so much, Mr. Beech—but really I can’t stop—truly, I mustn’t think of it.”
The farmer merely nodded a confirmation of his order to M’rye, who hastened out to the kitchen.
“It’ll be there for ye, anyway,” he said. “Now set down again, please.”
It was all as if he was the one who had the news to tell, so naturally did he take command of the situation. The girl seated herself, and the farmer drew up his arm-chair and planted himself before her, keeping his stockinged feet under the rungs for politeness’ sake.
“Now, Miss,” he began, just making it civilly plain that he preferred not to utter her hated paternal name, “I don’t know no more’n a babe unborn what’s brought you here. I’m sure, from what I know of ye, that you wouldn’t come to this house jest for the sake of comin’, or to argy things that can’t be, an’ mustn’t be, argied. In one sense, we ain’t friends of yours here, and there’s a heap o’ things that you an’ me don’t want to talk about, because they’d only lead to bad feelin’, an’ so we’ll leave ’em all severely alone. But in another way, I’ve always had a liking for you. You’re a smart girl, an’ a scholar into the bargain, an’ there ain’t so many o’ that sort knockin’ around in these parts that a man like myself, who’s fond o’ books an’ learnin’, wants to be unfriendly to them there is. So now you can figure out pretty well where the chalk line lays, and we’ll walk on it.”
Esther nodded her head. “Yes, I understand,” she remarked, and seemed not to dislike what Abner had said.