“Oh!” she burst forth. “Oh! you don't mean to tell me THAT'S it! Why, it's perfectly grand! And—and there's the minister comin' to call already! Ain't it LOVELY!”
That night, as they sat down for the first meal in the new abode, a meal cooked by Azuba and served by the light-footed, soft-spoken, deft-handed Hapgood, Serena voiced the exultation she felt.
“There, Daniel,” she observed, beaming across the table at her husband, “now you begin to appreciate what it means, don't you. NOW you begin to see the difference.”
Captain Dan, glancing up at the obsequious Hapgood standing at his elbow, hesitated.
“Yes, sir?” said Mr. Hapgood anxiously. “What is it you wish, sir?”
“Nothin', nothin'. Why, yes, I tell you: You go out and—and buy me a cigar somewhere. Here's the money.”
“Cigar, sir? Yes, sir. What kind do you—”
“Any kind; only get it quick.”
Then, as the door closed behind the dignified Hapgood, he added:
“I've got three cigars in my pocket now, but that doesn't matter. I had to send him after somethin'! Say, Serena, is it real necessary to have that undertaker hangin' over us ALL the time? Every time he looks at me I feel as if he was takin' my measure. Has EVERY meal got to be a funeral?”