"
How they gleamed in the meadow grasses and along the brooksides
like brilliant flecks of flame, giving a new beauty to the
nosegays that Waitstill carried or sent to Mrs. Boynton every
week.
To the eye of the casual observer, life in the two little
villages by the river's brink went on as peacefully as ever, but
there were subtle changes taking place nevertheless. Cephas Cole
had "asked" the second time and again had been refused by Patty,
so that even a very idiot for hopefulness could not urge his
father to put another story on the ell.
"If it turns out to be Phoebe Day," thought Cephas dolefully,
"two rooms is plenty good enough, an' I shan't block up the door
that leads from the main part, neither, as I thought likely I
should. If so be it's got to be Phoebe, not Patty, I shan't care
whether mother troops out 'n' in or not." And Cephas dealt out
rice and tea and coffee with so languid an air, and made such
frequent mistakes in weighing the sugar, that he drew upon
himself many a sharp rebuke from the Deacon.
"Of course I'd club him over the head with a salt fish twice a
day under ord'nary circumstances," Cephas confided to his father
with a valiant air that he never wore in Deacon Baxter's
presence; "but I've got a reason, known to nobody but myself, for
wantin' to stan' well with the old man for a spell longer.
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