“Who set father against Nelson? Yes, she is. I'd like to shake her, mischief-making thing. Father liked Nelson well enough before that, but he came home from that seance as bitter against him as if the poor boy had committed murder. Marietta told him that a small dark man was trying to take away his daughter, or some such silliness. Nelson isn't very small nor VERY dark, but he was the only male in sight that came near answering the description. As a matter of fact—”
She hesitated, colored, and looked as if she had said more than she intended. Galusha, who had not noticed her embarrassment, asked her to go on.
“Well,” she said, in some confusion, “I was going to say that if it hadn't been Nelson it would probably have been some one else. You see, I am father's only child and so—and so—”
“And so he doesn't like the idea of giving you up to some one else.”
“Yes, that's it. But it wouldn't be giving me up. It would be merely sharing me, that's all. I never shall leave father and I've told him so ever so many times.... Oh, dear! If you could have known him in the old days, Mr. Bangs, before he—well, when he was himself, big and strong and hearty. He used to laugh then; he hardly ever laughs now. He and Cap'n Jim Phipps—Martha's father—were great friends. You would have liked Cap'n Jim, Mr. Bangs.”
“Yes, I am sure I should.”
“So am I. Martha is very much like him. She's a dear, isn't she?”
Galusha nodded. “She has been very kind to me,” he said. “Indeed, yes.”
“Oh, she is to every one. She is always just like that. I am very glad you have decided to board with her this winter, Mr. Bangs. I have an idea that she has been—well, troubled about something; just what, of course, I don't know, although I think—but there, I mustn't guess because it is not my business.”
Galusha expressed a wish that he might become better acquainted with Nelson Howard.