He was sure she had not abandoned the idea which, at first,
had so excited her interest and raised her hopes. She seemed to
him to be still under a strong nervous strain, to speak and act as
if under repressed excitement; but she had asked him to leave the
affair to her, to let her think it over, so of course he could do
or say nothing until she had spoken. But he wondered and
speculated a good deal and was vaguely troubled. When Captain Sam
Hunniwell called he did not again refer to his possible candidate
for the position now held by Luther Small. And, singularly enough,
the captain himself did not mention the subject.
But one morning almost two weeks after Jed's discussion with the
young widow she and Captain Hunniwell came into the windmill shop
together. Mrs. Armstrong's air of excitement was very much in
evidence. Her cheeks were red, her eyes sparkled, her manner
animated. Her landlord had never seen her look so young, or, for
that matter, so happy.
Captain Sam began the conversation. He, too, seemed to be in high
good humor.
"Well, Jedidah Wilfred Shavin's'," he observed, facetiously, "what
do you suppose I've got up my sleeve this mornin'?"
Jed laid down the chisel he was sharpening.
"Your arms, I presume likely," he drawled.
"Yes, I've got my arms and there's a fist at the end of each one of
'em.
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