“I never did want to marry him,” she said. “When I get ready to marry anybody it'll be somebody with more get-up-and-git than he's got, I hope. But I was ready to do anything to help Mrs. Thankful from frettin' and when he talked about quittin' his job right in the busy season I had to keep him here somehow, I just HAD to. He was kind of—of mushy and soft about me first along—I guess guys of his kind are likely to be about any woman that'll listen to 'em—and when his sister got jealous and put him up to leavin' I thought up my plan. I got him to ask me—he'd as much as asked me afore—and then I made him sign that paper. Ugh! the silliness I had to go through afore he would sign it! Don't ask me about it or I shan't eat any dinner. But he did sign it and I knew I had him under my thumb. He's scared of that sister of his, but he's more scared of losin' his money. And she's just as scared of that as he is. THEY didn't want any breachin' of promises—No sir-ee! Ho! ho!”
She stopped to laugh in gleeful triumph. John laughed too. Captain Obed scratched his head.
“But, hold on there; heave to, Imogene!” he ordered. “I don't seem to get the whole of this yet. You did agree to marry him. Suppose he'd said you'd got to marry him, what then?”
“He wouldn't. He didn't want to marry me—not after I'd took my time at bossin' him around a while. And if he had—well, if he had, and I'd had to do it, I would, I suppose. I'd do anything for Mrs. Thankful, after what's she's done for me. Miss Emily and me had a talk about self-sacrifice and I see my duty plain. I told Miss Emily why I did it that night when you all came home from the Fair. She understood the whole thing.”
The captain burst into a roar of laughter.
“Ho! ho!” he shouted. “Well, Imogene, I said you beat all my goin' to sea, and you do—you sartin do. Now, I'd like to be on hand and see how Hannah takes it. If I know her, now that that engagement ain't hangin' over her, she'll even up with her brother for all she's had to put up with. Ho! ho! Poor old Kenelm's in for a warm Christmas.”
And yet Kenelm's Christmas was not so “warm” after all. He told Hannah of his broken engagement, wasting no words—which, for him, was very remarkable—and expressing no regret whatever. Hannah listened, at first with joy, and then, when Imogene's “love” was conveyed to her, with growing anger.
“The idea!” she cried. “And you bring me over a message like that. From her—from an Orphans' Home inmate to your own sister! And you let her walk over you, chuck you out as if you was a wornout doormat she'd wiped her boots on, and never said a word. Well, I'll say it for you. I'll tell her what I think of her. And she was cal'latin' to sue YOU for breaches of promise, was she? Humph! Two can play at that game. I don't know's I shan't have you sue her.”
“I don't want to. I told you this mornin' I didn't care nothin' about marryin' her. And you didn't want me to yourself. Now that it's all over you ought to be happy, I should think. I don't see what you're growlin' about.”
“No, I suppose you don't. You—you,” with withering contempt, “you haven't got the self-respect of—of a woodtick. I'm—I declare I'm perfectly prospected with shame at havin' such a brother in my family. And after cruisin' around with her and takin' her to the Cattle Show—”