"You didn't think so, Alice, when we used to drive through here."

"I was blind then and couldn't see except with your eyes. You didn't say it was lonesome."

"How could I say so, when I was with you?"

Alice squeezed his hand lovingly.

As they turned into Mason Street, Quincy exclaimed: "There's where Uncle Ike's chicken coop stood until he set it on fire."

"Did he set it on fire?" cried Alice.

"Now I've let out another promised secret. Can you see 'Zeke's house ahead?"

"Yes, how inviting the old place looks. I'm glad Hiram Maxwell has it, for we can sit in the old parlour and sing duets as we used to."

"Now we're going up Obed's Hill," said Quincy. "Deacon Mason's house looks as neat as ever."

"Do you remember when Huldah Mason broke her arm, Quincy?"

"Do not remind me of that, Alice. I was never in love with her, but no one could help liking her. There's the grocery store in which I am a silent partner"--he paused a moment--"and here we are at the Hawkins House."

As Ellis Smith reined up, the front door was opened and Mrs. Hawkins came out to meet her guests. "I got your letter, an' I know'd it was you. How be ye both? Seems like old times. Come right in the parlour.

I've got the curtains down so as to keep it cool," and the delighted woman led the way into the house. In the hallway, she screamed, "Jonas!

Jonas! Hurry up and pick those chickens. Guv'nor Sawyer and Alice are here."

CHAPTER IV

THE HAWKINS HOUSE

The converting of Mrs. Hawkins' boarding house into a hotel had been due to two causes: First, the thrift and economy of the lady herself, which had enabled her to put by a good sum in the bank. This she expended in building an ell with extra sleeping rooms, painting the structure cream colour with brown tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, and replacing old furniture with that of modern make. This latter, she confessed within a year, was a great mistake, for the new chairs became rickety, the castors would not hold in the bed posts, the bureau drawers became unmanageable, and the rooms, as she expressed it, had a "second-hand" appearance. Then it was that the old mahogany furniture, that had been relegated to the attic, was brought down, furbished up, and restored to its original place. When Quincy entered the room which he had formerly occupied, it did not seem possible that five years had elapsed.

The second cause that had led Mrs. Hawkins to change the small and modest sign--"Rooms and Board"--which had been in the front window for years, for a large swinging sign over the front door--"Hawkins House"--having large gold letters on a blue ground--was the rapid growth of the town. Many new mills had been erected in the neighbouring city of Cottonton. The operatives being unable to obtain suitable accommodations in the city, had come to Fernborough to live, where they could have gardens, fresh air, and playgrounds for their children. Fernborough became to Cottonton what Methuen is to Lawrence. Mrs. Hawkins was democratic, but shirt-sleeves and Prince Albert coats did not look well together, so she had turned what had been her sitting room into a private dining room, and it was here that what she called her "star boarders" were served.

By the time Quincy and Alice had opened their trunks, and distributed the contents in the capacious closet and deep, roomy bureau drawers, the cheerful tones of the dinner bell were heard, and they descended to the private room.

They were its only occupants.

"I thought as how you might be hungry after so long a ride an' so I just hurried Jonas up so you could begin afore the crowd came in. I don't introduce folks now I run a hotel. If they gets acquainted it's their lookout not mine," and Mrs. Hawkins and Olive brought in the fare from the adjoining kitchen.

Such a meal for hungry people! Lamb broth, roast chicken, yeast biscuit, potatoes, string beans, cuc.u.mbers, lettuce, berry pie, blackberries, currants, frosted cake, with tea, coffee, or cocoa.

"What does she charge?" asked Alice in a whisper when they were alone.

"A dollar a day for room and board--three square meals for board."

After dinner they went into the parlour, where Mrs. Hawkins joined them.

"I jest told Jonas he must help Olive wash the dishes to-day, for I hain't seen ye for so long I'm just dyin' to have a talk with yer, 'cause I s'pose you'll eat and run while yer here, you know so many folks."

"We haven't much to tell about ourselves," said Quincy. "What we want to know is how Fernborough folks are getting along."

"Wall, I s'pos'd you'd like to hear what's goin' on 'round here, an'

p'raps I can tell yer some things that other folks mightn't mention, 'cause they'd forgot it, or p'raps wouldn't want to tell. Is that cheer comfortable, Alice? I s'pose I ought to say Misses Guv'nor Sawyer, but it don't come nat'ral, I've known yer so long."

"I shall always be Alice to my good friend Mrs. Hawkins and her daughter Mandy."

"Speakin' o' Mandy, you know she's got two little boys--twins, one named after Deacon Mason, and t'other after your husband's friend Obadiah Strout, ther perfesser--and she's got a little girl, nigh on ter two years old named Marthy after me--but they don't call her Marthy--it's allus Mattie. These new-fangled names fuss me all up. If Mary and Marthy were good enough for the Lord's friends, I don't know what he'd think to hear 'em called Mamie and Mattie.

"Speakin' o' names, there's my Jonas, which is same as Jonah I s'pose.

Anyway it fits him to a T, for he's a reg'lar Jonah if there ever was one, which our minister, Mr. Gay, you'll meet him at dinner-time to-morrow, says he's doubtful about.

"If a whale swallowed my Jonas it couldn't keep him down, for he's just _satirated_ with tobacco smoke--he says he has to puff it on the hens and chickens to kill the varmints, and I should think it would. Do you smoke, Mr. Sawyer?"

"Cigars, occasionally. I am not an habitual smoker."

"Well, old Mr. Trask told me as how pipe smoke wouldn't colour lace curtains same as cigars do. Now you jes' smoke all you want to up in your room an' I'll see if it washes out."

"Alice dislikes smoke, and I never use tobacco in her presence--so your lace curtains won't suffer."

"Wall, I'm kinder sorry for I wanted to see if Doctor Trask knew what he was talkin' about. When I'm rich I'll have three doctors and two on 'em will have to agree afore I'll take any of their pizen. I jes' remembered that the new minister, Mr. Gay, smokes. I'll put some lace curtains up in his room. You ain't seen him yet. He parts his hair in the middle.

The gals are all crazy 'bout him. I like his preachin' putty well, but he don't use near as much brimstone as old Mr. Howe does."

"Is Mr. Howe's son going to be a clergyman?" Alice asked.

Mrs. Hawkins laughed raucously.

"The Lord save us, I guess not! Why Emmanuel has gone and married a play actress--and isn't she some? She rides a hoss just like a man does, and the way she jumps fences and rides hur-rah-ti-cut down the street would jes' make your hair stand on end. She's away now--I wish you could see her. Of course you're goin' over to the store."

"Why, certainly," said Quincy. "I'm a special partner, you know. I shall call on Mrs. Strout. You remember the party at Deacon Mason's, Alice--I danced with Miss Bessie Chisholm--"

Mrs. Hawkins couldn't wait, "Yes, an' she made the perfesser just the kind of wife he needed. She bosses the house... for I heard her tell him one day that if he didn't like her cookin' he might have his meals at the store--an' she goes to dances with her brother Sylvester. Some folks think she's a high-flyer--but I don't blame her seein' as how she has that old blowhard for a husband--which is true, if he is your pardner."

Alice asked if the Strouts had any children.

"Yes, they've got a little boy, an' he's a chip of the old block. His father brought him here one day and he pulled the cloth of'n that table there and broke a chiny vase that I paid fifty cents for, and his father never said a word about buyin' me another."

"I hope that Mr. Strout and Hiram get along together well," said Quincy.

"Hiram's a good feller. Mandy did well when she got him, but she has you to thank for it, Mr. Sawyer. If you hadn't set him up in that grocery store I'm afraid he'd be chorin' now. You remember Mrs. Crowley? She jes' loves them children, but Mandy's afeerd she's going to lose her.

She's got a beau--a feller named Dan Sweeney, and his hair is so red you could light a match by techin' it. He works for your brother 'Zeke. He's a good enuf feller, but he and Strout don't hitch horses. You see he was in the same regiment with the Perfesser an' he knows all about him, same as you found out, and Strout don't talk big afore him. The fact is, the Perfesser hain't many friends. There was Abner Stiles. They two used to be as thick as mola.s.ses, but since Strout wouldn't give him the job in the grocery that he'd promised him, Abner's gone back on him."

"Does Uncle Ike board with Mandy now?" Alice knew that he did, but wished Mrs. Hawkins' view of the strange doings of her uncle.

"Yes, he's there--goin' on eighty-two and chipper as a squirrel. He's got religion Mandy says, and so many kinds that she don't know which one he's got the most of."