Sure enough; one of the windows on this side of the house was raised about six inches at the bottom, the shade was up, and peering beneath the sash the minister discerned the expressive features of Abishai Pepper—or as much of those features as the size of the opening permitted to be seen.
“Oh!” exclaimed the visitor, “is that you, Mr. Pepper? Well, I'm glad to see you, at last. You are rather hard to see, even now.”
Kyan was plainly embarrassed. He stammered as he answered.
“Yes,” he agreed, “I—I shouldn't wonder if I be. How be you? Pretty smart?”
“Yes, thank you. I'm well.”
“Er—er—come to call, did you?”
“Why, yes, that was my intention.”
“Hum! Er—er—Laviny, she's gone over to Thankful Payne's. She heard that Thankful's cousin up to Middleboro had died—passed away, I mean—and she thought she'd run over and find out if Thankful was willed anything. She said she'd be back pretty soon.”
“Very well. Then, as she won't be gone long, perhaps I'll come in and wait.”
He was moving away toward the corner when a shout from beneath the window sash brought him to a halt.