“Well,” she inquired coldly, “what's the matter now?”
Mr. Atkins waved an agitated hand.
“Set down,” he begged. “Scooch down out of sight, Emeline, for the land sakes. Don't stand up there where everybody can see you.”
The lady refused to “scooch.”
“If I ain't ashamed of bein' seen,” she observed, “I don't know why you should be. What are you doin' over here anyhow; skippin' 'round in the sand like a hoptoad?”
The lightkeeper repeated his plea.
“Do set down, Emeline, please,” he urged. “I thought you and me'd agreed that nobody'd ought to see us together.”
Mrs. Bascom gathered her skirts about her and with great deliberation seated herself upon a hummock.
“We did have some such bargain,” she replied. “That's why I can't understand your hidin' at my back door and whistlin' and wavin' like a young one. What did you come here for, anyway?”
Seth answered with righteous indignation.