“Waal, sir, Shaftesvul!” she exclaimed, turning to survey the vanishing town, for it had required scarcely a moment to whisk them beyond its limited precincts. “It’s the beauty-spot of the whole world, sure. But,” she added as she settled herself straight on the seat and turned her face toward the ranges in the distance, “we must try ter put up with the mountings. One good thing is that we air used ter them, else hevin’ ter go back arter this trip would be powerful’ hard on us, sure. Benjie, who do ye reckon I met up with in Shaftesvul? Now, who?”
“I dunno,” faltered Benjie, all ajee and out of his reckoning. Luckily old Whitey knew the way home, for the reins lay slack on her back. “War it yer Cousin Lucindy Jane?” Benjie ventured.
“Cousin Lucindy Jane!” Editha echoed with a tone closely resembling contempt. “Of course I met up with Cousin Lucindy Jane, an’ war interjuced ter her cow an’ all her chickens. Cousin Lucindy Jane!” she repeated slightingly. Then essaying no further to foster his lame guesswork, “Benjie,” she laid her hand impressively on his arm, “I met up with Leroy Tresmon’!”
She gazed at him with wide, bright eyes, challenging his outbreak of surprise. But Benjie only dully fumbled with the name. “Leroy Tresmon’?” he repeated blankly. “Who’s him?”
“Hesh, Benjie!” cried Editha in a girlish gush of laughter. “Don’t ye let on ez I hev never mentioned Leroy Tresmon’s name ter you-’uns. Gracious me! Keep that secret in the sole of yer shoe. He’d never git over it ef he war ter find that out, vain an’ perky ez he be.”
“But—but when did ye git acquainted with him?”
“Why, that year ’way back yander when I lived with Aunt Dor’thy in Shaftesvul. My! my! my! why, ’Roy war ez reg’lar ez the town clock in comin’ ter see me. But, lawsy! it be forty-six year’ ago now. I never would hev dreampt of the critter remembering me arter all these years.” She bridled into a graceful erectness, and threw her beautiful eyes upward in ridicule of the idea as she went on: “I war viewin’ the show-windows of that big dry-goods store. They call it ‘the palace’”—Benjie remembered that he had seen her at that very moment—“an’ it war all so enticin’ ter the eye that I went inside to look closer at some of the pretties; an’ ez I teetered up an’ down the aisle I noticed arter awhile a man old ez you-’uns, Benjie, but mighty fine an’ fixed up an’ scornful an’ perky, an’ jes gazin’ an’ gazin’ at me. But I passed on heedless, an’ presently, ez I war about ter turn ter leave, a clerk stepped up ter me—I hed noticed out of the corner of my eye the boss-man whisper ter him—an’ this whipper-snapper he say, ‘Excuse me, Lady, but did you give yer name ter hev any goods sent up?’ An’ I say, ‘I hev bought no goods; I be a stranger jes viewin’ the town.’ Then ez I started toward the door this boss-man suddint kem out from behind his desk an’ appeared before me. ‘Surely,’ he said, smiling—he hed the whitest teeth, Benjie, an’ a-many of ’em, ez reg’lar ez grains of corn—”
Benjie instinctively closed his lips quickly over his own dental vacancies and ruins as Editha resumed her recital:
“‘Surely,’ he said, smiling, ‘thar never war two sech pairs of eyes—made out of heaven’s own blue. Ain’t this Editha Bruce?’
“An’ I determinated ter skeer him a leetle, fer he war majorin’ round powerful’ brash; so I said ez cool ez a cucumber, ‘Mis’ Benjamin Casey.’