"My dear," interrupted Faxton, "I say it with fear and trembling, but perhaps Crewne don't want to be in love at all."
An indignant flash of doubt went over the lady's face.
"Just notice him at a party," continued Faxton. "He seems to distribute his attentions with exact equality among all the ladies present, as if he were trying to discourage the idea that he was a marrying man."
"Well," said the lady, still indignant, "I think you might ask him and settle the matter."
"Excuse me, my dear," replied Faxton. "I have seen others manifest an interest in Crewne's affairs, and the result was discouraging. I'd rather not try the experiment."
A few mornings later Mrs. Leekins, who took the place of a newspaper at Hardhack, was seen hurrying from house to house on her own street, and such housekeepers as saw her instantly discovered that errands must be made to houses directly in Mrs. Leekins's route.
Mrs. Leekins's story was soon told. Crewne had suddenly gone to the city, first purchasing the cottage which Deacon Twinkham had built several years before for a son who had never come back from sea.
Crewne had hired old Mrs. Bruff to put the cottage to rights, and to arrange the carpets and furniture, which he was to forward immediately. But who was to be mistress of the cottage Mrs. Leekins was unable to tell, or even to guess.
The clerks at the store had been thoroughly pumped; but while they admitted that one young lady had purchased an unusual quantity of inserting, another had ordered a dress pattern of gray empress cloth, which was that year the fashionable material and color for traveling dresses.
Old Mrs. Bruff had received unusual consideration and unlimited tea, but even the most systematic question failed to elicit from her anything satisfactory.