“Well, as I was sayin’,” resumed the Captain, “I went into one of them houses. ‘Young women,’ says I, leavin’, ‘you’d better repent, for the kingdom of heaven’s at hand.’ I tell you I was mad when I found a similar state o’ things in the tother two, and I just bounced out, and went right down to Lem Atkins. ‘Mr. Atkins,’ says I, ‘you’d better employ your former agent for them houses.’ ‘What’s the matter, Fisher,’ says he. ‘Matter is,’ says I, ‘that I guess you don’t know what sort o’ callin’ ’s followed in them tenements.’ ‘It’s not my business, Mr. Fisher,’ says he, ‘to busy myself with the occupation of my tenants. How dare you speak to me in that manner.’ I looked him right in the eye. He swelled up like a turkey-cock, but he didn’t look at me a second. ‘Mr. Atkins,’ says I, ‘no offince, but as I’ve got sons and a daughter, the occupation of your tenants is a consarn o’ mine, and you must get another man to collect them rents, for I wunt do it, an’ I pity the man that will.’ He turned off to his desk. ‘Mr. Fisher,’ says he, ‘you wunt do any more collectin’ for me, so just send up your accounts, and we’ll be quits.’ ‘Very well,’ says I, and I left with his collectin’ off my hands for good.”
“Bravo, Eldad! That was done like a man!” cried Harrington.
“If it wasn’t for bringin’ disgrace on his sister and that splendid daughter of hers,” said the Captain, rising, with his pipe in his clenched hand, “I’d just let the thing be known around town, I would. Say, John, she’s a beauty, though, ain’t she? John, she’s the ony lady I know that’s good enough for you.”
Harrington colored deeply, in spite of himself.
“Well, the other one’s splendid, too,” said the Captain, as if in answer to a private thought of the young man, scrutinizing his countenance meanwhile, with his own head all awry. “Yes, she’s a regular clipper. I never was so took aback by any human action as by that offer to buy Roux’s brother. That was ginerosity such as we read of—ony it’s a pity she didn’t know the harm she was doin’. Yes, she’s a glory, and that’s a fact. Still, I wish it was tother one.”
“Why, Eldad,” said Harrington, laughing and fiery red, “you’re all at sea. Surely you don’t think I’m in love with Miss Ames?”
The Captain looked hard at him.
“Well, so I’ve ben told, John,” he replied.
Harrington puckered up his mouth in wonder.
“Bless me, how people will talk!” he exclaimed. “Why there’s not a word of truth in it. Of course I like Emily very much”—