“Alive?” he repeated. “Your husband ALIVE? Why, Mrs. Coffin, this is—”
She waved him to silence. “Don't stop me now,” she said. “I've told so much; let me tell the rest. Yes, he's alive. Alive and knockin' round the world somewheres. Every little while he writes me for money and, if I have any, I send it to him. Why? Why 'cause I'm a coward, after all, I guess, and I'm scared he'll do what he says he will and come back. Perhaps you think I'm a fool to put up with it; that's what most folks would say if they knew it. They'd tell me I ought to divorce him. Well, I can't, I CAN'T. I walked into the mess blindfold; I married him in spite of warnin's and everything. I took him for better or for worse, and now that he's turned out worse, I must take my medicine. I can't live with him—that I can't do—but while HE lives I'll stay his wife and give him what money I can spare. That's the duty I told you was laid on me, and it's a hard one, but I don't run away from it.”
John Ellery was silent. What could he say? Keziah went on.
“I don't run away from it,” she exclaimed, “and you mustn't run away from yours. Your church depends on you, they trust you. Are you goin' to show 'em their trust was misplaced? The girl you wanted is to marry another man, that's true, and it's mighty hard. But she'll marry a good man, and, by and by, she'll be happy.”
“Happy!” he said scornfully.
“Yes, happy. I know she'll be happy because I know she's doin' what'll be best for her and because I know him that's to be her husband. I've known him all my life; he's that other one that—that—and I give him up to her; yes, I give him up to her, and try to do it cheerful, because I know it's best for him. Hard for YOU? Great Lord A'mighty! do you think it ain't hard for ME? I—I—”
She stopped short; then covering her face with her apron, she ran from the room. John Ellery heard her descending the stairs, sobbing as she went.
All that afternoon he remained in his chair by the window. It was six o'clock, supper time, when he entered the kitchen. Keziah, looking up from the ironing board, saw him. He was white and worn and grim, but he held out his hand to her.
“Mrs. Coffin,” he said, “I'm not going away. You've shown me what devotion to duty really means. I shall stay here and go on with my work.”
Her face lit up. “Will you?” she said. “I thought you would. I was sure you was that kind.”