A FRONT-DOOR CALLER


Mrs. Beasley departed next morning, taking with her the extra month's
wages, in spite of fervid avowals that she wouldn't touch a cent of
it. On the way to the depot she favored Mr. Lumley with sundry hints
concerning the reasons for her departure. She "couldn't stand it no
longer"; if folks only knew what she'd had to put up with she cal'lated
they'd be some surprised; she could "tell a few things" if she wanted
to, and so on. Incidentally she was kind of glad she didn't like the
place, because now she cal'lated she should go West and visit her niece;
they'd been wanting her to come for so long.

Gabe was much interested and repeated the monologue, with imaginative
additions, to the depot master, who, in turn, repeated it to his wife
when he went home to dinner. That lady attended sewing circle in the
afternoon. Next day a large share of Bayport's conversation dealt with
the housekeeper's leaving and her reasons therefor. The reasons
differed widely, according to the portion of the town in which they were
discussed, but it was the general opinion that the whole affair was not
creditable to Captain Whittaker.

Only at the perfect boarding house was the captain upheld. Miss Phinney
declared that she knew he had made a mistake as soon as she heard the
Beasley woman talk; nobody else, so Angeline declared, could "get a word
in edgeways." Mrs. Tripp sighed and affirmed that going out of town for
a woman to do housework was ridiculous on the face of it; there were
plenty of Bayport ladies, women of capability and sound in their
religious views, who might be hired if they were approached in the right