“And serve him right, plaguing a sick man with the catechism,” broke in Priscilla. “But if not that, what is it ails the captain?”
“Why, it’s not so much the captain that’s ailing as Josiah, poor boy.”
“Josiah ailing!”
“Yes, with a sore and sharp disease called love-sickness, Priscilla. You know he’s sweethearted Mary Dingley these five years or more, and a dear, pretty, loving little maid she is.”
“Yes, and what’s come across their courting?”
“Why, there’s where Myles is distraught. Before our Lora went, you know she and Mary Dingley were closer than sisters, and while my poor girl lay sick Mary was ever at her side, and helped us dress her for her burying”—
“Ah, the sweet saint, how pure and holy she looked when we had done!” murmured Priscilla, but Barbara hurriedly raised her hand.
“Nay, talk not on ’t, or I shall lose sight of all else. ’Tis only by times I dare to speak of her. You know when our Alick married your Sally, his father would fain have had them come home to live; but Sally had liever keep her own house, and Alick felt himself old enough to be goodman,—and, well, never mind all that, but Josiah talked to me—you know he was ever my own boy—at that time, and he said when he and his Molly got wed, ’twould be his wish and will and her pleasure to come home to us, and be the stay of our old age, and so ’twas settled; but then my poor maid took sick, and there was no thought of aught but her in the house, and when she was gone, Josiah, who loved her tenderly, said not a word until the year came round and more, and then, man fashion, he spoke out more honestly than shrewdly to his father and me together, and said ’t was time now that he was wed, and he would fain bring his wife to us to fill the place of her that was gone. Mayhap ’twas just the word ‘fill the place’ that angered Lora’s father; perhaps he forgot that he was young himself once, and that God lightens the burdens that he lays upon young hearts lest they should be broken before they’re used, while to us that have well-nigh done our work he lets grief crush out this world’s life that we may be ready for the next. But, however that may be, the captain took mortal offense at the thought of any young woman filling Lora’s place at the hearth or in the love of those who mourned her and should ever mourn her, and he said things that no temper but one so sweet as my Josiah’s could have brooked. If it had been Myles, he would have broke out at his father and given as good as he got, and when o’ stormy nights I think of my poor sailor lad at sea, I comfort myself with the thought that he’s safe from breaking the fifth commandment. But there, ’tis not of son Myles I’m speaking, but of poor Josiah.”
“And he took his father’s rating in brave patience as he ever does,—so Alick says,” said Alick’s mother-in-law.
“Yes. Then Alick has told you of our trouble?” demanded Barbara almost jealously, but Priscilla hastened to reply,—