“I'm going up to the village, father,” she said. “I have some errands to do. I'll be back pretty soon.”
Her father watched her as she walked away. The thought crossed his mind that possibly Nelson Howard might be visiting the village that forenoon. He called her name, and she turned and came back.
“What is it, father?” she asked.
Jethro hesitated. He passed a hand across his forehead. His head felt tired. Somehow he didn't want to talk any more. Even as important a topic as Nelson Howard did not arouse his interest.
“Oh, nothin', nothin',” he assured. “Cal'late maybe I'll lay down and turn in a little spell afore dinner. Is Zach on deck?”
“Yes, he is out in the kitchen, or was a minute ago. Primmie was over on an errand and I heard their tongues going. Shall I speak to Zach, father?”
He told her no, and went into the house. There was a couch in the dining room and he stretched himself upon it. The head of the couch was near the door leading to the kitchen. That door was closed, but from behind it sounded voices, voices which were audible and distinct. A dispute seemed to be in progress between Mr. Bloomer and Miss Cash and, although Zacheus continued to grumble on in an even key, Primmie's tone became higher and shriller with each retort.
“I tell you 'tis so, Zach Bloomer.... Well, maybe 'twan't a hundred and fifty thousand, but I bet you 'twas more money than you ever see in YOUR life. So now!”
The assistant light keeper was heard to cough. Primmie seemed to discern a hint of skepticism even in the cough.
“Oh, you can set there and keep on turnin' up your nose and—and coughin',” she declared, “but—”