She went to a cupboard in a corner, took down a box of sweetmeats, carried them into the sitting-room, and, to the inexpressible horror of the women, shoved up the window at which Imogene was still wistfully fumbling. With fingers that trembled at first she dropped a few bits of the candy into the animal’s moist “porringer,” and Imogene tucked them into her mouth and munched with supreme satisfaction. The widow fed the candy to the last bit, manifestly enjoying the comments on her bravery.
Then she carried the lantern to the barn when Hiram led the elephant away to domicile her for the night.
“I don’t want to draw no wrong conclusions nor do anyone wrong in my thoughts,” said Mrs. Wes Johnson, on her way home that evening, speaking to a woman who walked with her. “But if I was any judge I should say that Cap’n Nymphus Bodfish better be lookin’ to his buttons in a certain quarter.”
“By the style she spit out there before us all tonight, you might think her intentions was serious toward him,” commented the other.
“I know they’re serious,” replied the other with decision. “Nymp’ has made his brags already, and I’m knowin’ to it that she’s been havin’ extra sewin’ done.”
“You don’t s’pose she’d mitten him now, do you?’ asked the other in horrified tones.
“Well, I don’t want to wrong nobody,” said Mrs Johnson, “but if I was goin’ to say, I shouldn’t be that Cap Nymp’ Bodfish would get Abby Snell till I see ’em comin’ down the aisle together. I tell ye, when a man’s got forty thousand to put into the bank ’side of the twenty thousand that Number One left to ye, a woman does a little second-thought thinkin’.”
The Widow Snell stayed awake a long time that night, listening to the distant rumble of Hiram’s snores shuddering under the door of the best room. Possibly she was fulfilling Mrs. Johnson’s prediction about second thoughts.