The truth was that nothing could have pleased the widowed and childless woman more than to have her brother, who was such a prominent Methodist, and a steady laborer, a member of her own household, which would be, she knew, in case of a separation between the couple.
“Women is er caution, sho, brer,” she went on, “I do know Ca’line is haid-strong. Mighty bad fer bofe, dis disagreement. ’Tain’t ’cordin’ ter scriptur’.”
Silence fell upon the pair, save for the sound of Martha’s breath as it contended with the nicotine in her uncleanly pipe-stem. The hours passed until the clock within struck twelve jingling strokes. Abraham rose stiffly, lingered, stretched himself, for he felt that he needed to apologize for going back.
“Yer gwine back ter ’er, brer?” Martha Todd asked significantly. “May de Lo’d be ’long wid you den.”
“I wouldn’t go er step, but I hatter git my clothes frum ’er’,” said he sheepishly. “You reckon I gwine ’low dat gal ter keep my clothes? Huh! Marfy, w’at you rekon I is?”
“Once you git back she gwine ’suade you ter let ’er be ’mersed. Who knows, we may see Deacon Abrum wid wet clothes on, too. Some women is too sly——”
“You go ’long, sister, I tell you too much is done pass twixt me en Ca’line. I des gwine atter my things, den I’ll come live wid you—I’ll be yer in de mornin’.”
Thus speaking, Abraham turned slowly homeward. Late as it was he found Caroline sitting in the door smoking her pipe. She had a sulky mien on her bent, portly form. She drew her feet under her chair as her liege lord passed wordless into the cottage. He turned up the wick of the low-burning lamp, and as its feeble rays struggled through the room his glance fell on the features of sleeping Asphalt, and a lump rose in his throat.
A crude wardrobe stood against the wall. Through its open door he caught a glimpse of his clothing crowded into the piece of furniture with Caroline’s finery. Therein was his long-tailed broadcloth coat, his bell-shaped silk hat, his shining doeskin trousers, and an overcoat.
He had magnanimously made up his mind that he would demand nothing of the domestic wreck except his own clothing. The furniture of the cottage, all other belongings of him and his wife, should remain with her, even little Asphalt.