Again Esther tried to calm her.
“Never mind whether he did or not, Auntie dear,” she urged. “You have kept it ever since and everybody says you are the best postmistress the town ever had. And, after all,” she added, “if he did get the appointment, he did it to help you, didn’t he? It seems to me that was—well, kind of him.”
Her aunt turned quickly. “Kind!” she repeated. “Of course it was kind, or he meant it to be. But I like to know about kindnesses when they’re done, not have ’em sprung on me as a good joke nine years afterwards. He has been chucklin’ to himself over that joke ever since. In a lot of ways,” she went on earnestly, “Foster Townsend is a kind man and a good man. The trouble is that he has got so used to bein’ told that he is the greatest man in the world that he has come to believe it.”
Esther was amazed. “Why, how can you call him good!” she exclaimed. “Mother always said he—”
Reliance interrupted. “I know,” she put in hastily. “Well, your mother may have been a little prejudiced, perhaps. She had reason to be.”
The girl’s lips tightened.
“At any rate,” she declared, “his adopting me is ridiculous. I don’t want to be adopted and I shan’t be. That is settled.”
Miss Clark shook her head. “No,” she said, firmly. “That part isn’t settled—yet. He isn’t goin’ to adopt me, or Millard either. Millard, do hush!... But for you, Esther, it isn’t settled at all. There is a whole lot to be said and thought over before that is settled. I’m goin’ to bed. Millard, put out the lamp.”
Mr. Clarke made one more desperate appeal.
“If I didn’t know,” he declared, with angry sarcasm, “I’d swear all hands in this house had been drinkin’—all hands but me, I mean. You give out that it’s settled and Esther gives out that it’s settled, but I haven’t settled nothin’ yet as I know of. Cap’n Foster Townsend asked me to come and live with him. Right here in this room he asked it and you two heard him. All right. Then I guess I’m the one to say yes or no—to my part of it, anyhow.”