"It meant that it was her doings that thou hadst gone, and that thy going both angered and grieved her, Captain."
"Angered, mayhap."
"Yea, and grieved. She ate no supper, although I prayed her to taste a new confection of mine own invention."
"Priscilla, dost think Master Allerton would be—would make a"—
"Would be the right goodman for Barbara? No, and no again, I think naught of the kind."
"Ah! You women are so quick upon the trigger, Priscilla. I would my snaphance went to the aim as lightly and as surely as your or Barbara's thought."
"Come now, Captain, the manchets are done, and the fish is broiled, and the porridge made. Wait but till I call the goodman and open a pottle of my summer beer; 't is dear Dame Brewster's diet-drink, with a thought more flavor to it, and John says—ah, here thou art, thou big sluggard. We need no horn to call thee to thy meat."
Entering the cottage with a grin upon his lips and the promise of a kiss in his eyes, Alden started joyfully at sight of the Captain, and at Priscilla's impatient summons he bashfully took the head of the table and asked the blessing upon his family and their daily bread, which was then the undisputed duty of every head of a household. The captain ate well, as Priscilla slyly noted; and as she rose from the table and began rapidly to carry the few pewter and wooden dishes to the scullery John had added to the two rooms and loft comprising the cottage, she muttered,—
"What fools we women be! When they care for us the most, a savory dish will comfort them, and we must pule, and pine, and pale—ah!"
For the captain had followed and stood at the housewife's elbow with a confused and somewhat foolish smile upon his face.