In addition to this bit of news, Stead brought a fine pair of wild ducks, shot a few days previous, farther down where the river was not ice-locked, and he had taken the wise precaution of having them dressed by José, his Mexican man of all work, for in Miss Keith’s agitation at the knowledge that her kinsfolk were actually coming that very day, the task of picking pin-feathers would have been impossible.
In fact her hands trembled so, as she took the basket from Stead, that, contrary to his habit of taciturnity, he questioned her closely as to her health, and if he could help her in any preparations, and finally, after leading Manfred to the stable, followed Miss Keith into the house only to find her in the kitchen seated, as Dr. Russell had some months before, with her face pressed against Tatters’ ears in a vain effort to stifle her sobs.
“I’ve wished for kin so long that now they are coming it doesn’t seem as if I could bear it,” she said by way of explanation. “If it was only Adam and Brooke, I wouldn’t mind; I’ve sampled her, and though she’s full of spunk, she’s as pleasant as if she never had a cent, but to think of that high-spirited southern woman, perhaps lording it over me, it’s too much, even though I’m only going to hold over a day or two to give them the lay of the land, as it were. Then like as not their city help will take me for a servant, for they’ll not likely bring less than two for all the cooking and the waiting that they are used to, which reminds me that they’ll need to use the living room to dine in, for of course they won’t eat in the kitchen as I’ve done, and what with turning the south parlour into a bedroom (which it was in his mother’s day) for Adam, so that he can get out on the porch easily, there won’t be any best room at all.
“Would you help me move the table and dresser with the glass door into the living room? Larsen bangs furniture so when he does it, and the deal table from the summer kitchen can come here for the help.”
Jumping up—“There’s some one knocking now! Dear me, it’s the Bisbee boy with a telegram. Open it, do, and give him a quarter from the shelf by the clock, for riding up with it,” and Miss Keith sank back in the rocking chair and closed her eyes like some one about to have a tooth drawn, who dreaded the sight of the instruments.
Silent Stead opened the blue envelope with the studied deliberation with which he performed every act of life, except riding Manfred, at which time the two abandoned themselves to mutual impulse. Shaking out the sheet, he read slowly:—
“New York, January 10, 1904.
“To Miss Keith West, Gilead.
“Please meet us with closed carriage at Stonebridge, two-thirty. Baggage to Gilead.
“Brooke Lawton.”