“Don't be bashful,” urged Imogene. “We're engaged to be married, ain't we?”
Mr. Parker gulped, choked and then nodded. “Yes,” he admitted, faintly. “I—I cal'late we be.”
His sister took a step forward, her arm raised. Captain Obed stepped in front of her.
“Just a minute, Hannah! Heave to! Come up into the wind a jiffy. Let's get this thing straight. Kenelm, do you mean—”
The gentleman addressed seemed to mean very little, just then. But Imogene's coolness was quite unruffled and again she answered for him.
“He means just what he said,” she declared, “and what he said was plain enough, I should think. I don't know why there should be so much row about it. Mr. Parker and I have been good friends ever since I come here to work. He's asked me to marry him some time or other and I said maybe I would. That makes us engaged, same's I've been tryin' to tell you. And what all this row is about I can't see. It's our business, ain't it? I can't see as it's anybody else's.”
But Hannah was by this time beyond holding back. She pushed aside the captain's arm and faced the engaged couple. Her eyes flashed and her fingers twitched.
“You—you designin' critter you!” she shouted, addressing Imogene. “You plannin', schemin', underhanded—”
“Shh! shh!” put in Captain Obed. “Easy, Hannah! easy, there!”
“I shan't be easy! You mind your own affairs, Obed Bangs! Kenelm Parker, how dare you say—how dare you tell me you're goin' to marry this—this INMATE? What do you mean by it?”