"Thank you, Mr. Wright. Let me make you acquainted with Mrs. Somerton."
Caleb seemed not a bit appalled as he shook hands with Grace. He held her hand several seconds while he looked at her, and seemed to approve of what he saw; then he said:—
"Your uncle told me of your marriage, and thought you'd been very unwise. I reckon he'd change his mind if he was here, though 'twas a hard one to change."
Grace blushed slightly and replied:—
"I hope so, I'm sure. Have you had the entire work of the store since Uncle Jethro died?"
"Uncle—Jethro! I don't believe he'd have died if he'd heard you say that! Well, yes, I've been alone here. Your husband wrote he'd be along pretty soon, an' as the roads was so soft that the farmers didn't come to town much, I didn't think it worth while to get extra help. Come into the back room, won't you? There's chairs there, an' a good fire too."
"Are the farmers your principal customers?" Grace asked, as she sank into a capacious wooden armchair.
"Well, they're the most important ones. They take most time, too, though some of the women-folks in this town can use more time in spendin' a quarter an' makin' up their minds—principally the latter, than—well, I don't s'pose you can imagine how they wait, an' fuss, an' turn things over, an'—"