"You a'n't going, be ye Miss Beswick?" said Mrs. Ducklow,--for the visitor had arisen. "What's yer hurry?"
"No hurry at all; but I've done my arrant and said my say, and may as well be goin'. Good night. Good night, Mr. Ducklow."
And Miss Beswick, pulling her shawl over her head, stalked out of the house like some tall, gaunt spectre, leaving the Ducklows to recover as best they could from the consternation into which they had been thrown by her coming.
"Did you ever?" said Mrs. Ducklow, gaining courage to speak after the visitor was out of hearing.
"Strange she should speak of your investing money to-day! D' ye s'pose she knows?"
"I don't see how she _can_ know." And Mr. Ducklow paced the room in deep trouble. "I've been careful not to give a hint on 't to anybody, for I knew jest what folks would say: 'If Ducklow has got so much money to dispose of, he'd better give Reuben a lift.' I know how folks talk."
"Coming here to browbeat us!" exclaimed Mrs. Ducklow. "I wonder ye didn't be a little more plain with _her_, father! I wouldn't have sot and been dictated to as tamely as you did!"
"You wouldn't? Then why did ye? She dictated to you as much as she did to me; and you scurce opened your head; you didn't dars' to say yer soul was your own!"
"You ventur'd to speak once, and she shet ye up quicker 'n lightnin'! Now tell about you wouldn't have sot and been dictated to like a tame noodle, as I did!"
"Yes, ye did. I might have answered back sharp enough, but I was expectin' _you_ to speak. _Men_ don't like to dispute with _women_."
"That's your git-off," said Mrs. Ducklow, trembling with vexation. "You was jest as much afraid of her as I was. I never see ye so cowed in all my life."
"Cowed! I wasn't cowed, neither. How unreasonable, now, for you to cast all the blame on to me!"
And Mr. Ducklow, his features contracted into a black scowl, took his boots from the corner.
"Ye ha'n't got to go out, have ye?" said Mrs. Ducklow. "I shouldn't think you'd put on yer boots jest to step to the barn and see to the hoss."
"Yes, I think I better. He and Sophrony'll know we heard of his gittin' home, and they're enough inclined a'ready to feel we neglect 'em. Haven't ye got somethin' ye can send?"