“What in time—?” he demanded, in a whisper. Nabby nodded impressively.
“I guess you may well say more’n that when you know. She’s comin’ here to live.”
Varunas stared. Then he slapped his knee. “I guessed pretty nigh as much,” he declared. “The minute I see her and Reliance come out of that house, I— But you don’t really mean it, do you, Nabby? You don’t mean she’s comin’ here to stay—right along?”
Nabby nodded again. “That’s just what I mean,” she replied. “Cap’n Foster told me so a minute or so after you left to go get her. Yes, she’s comin’ to stay right along—or wrong along—the good Lord only knows which it’ll turn out to be.... Well!” fervently, “I thought I’d expected ’most everything, but I never expected this. Freeling’s girl! And Eunice Clark’s girl, which is sayin’ a lot more! In this house!... There, there! go get the rest of her dunnage and hurry up about it. I’ve got somethin’ else to do besides listen to your ‘by times.’ You can say them later on. You won’t be the only one sayin’ ’em. How folks will talk!”
She was right, of course. All Harniss “talked,” as soon as the news reached its ears. Its most distinguished citizen had a habit of surprising his fellow townsfolks, but he had seldom surprised them more completely.
While the Giffords, first of the “talkers,” were holding their whispered conversation above stairs, down in the library Foster Townsend and the new member of his household were talking also, but with far less freedom from constraint. At his invitation she removed her coat and hat and sat in the rocker by the table. He, of course, took the easy-chair. She said not a word. He crossed his knees, cleared his throat, and tried to appear at ease; it was a poor pretense, for he had never felt less so.
“Well,” he began. “Varunas got you here safe and sound, didn’t he?”
She looked up at him and then down.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“That’s good, that’s good.... Hum.... Well, I hope—I hope you’re going to like it, now you are here.”