a refusal had never entered his mind. "I cal'lated you'd be glad.
You wouldn't have to go away then, nor--My soul and body! some one's
knockin' at the door! AND THIS DUMMED PIPE'S FETCHED LOOSE!"

The last sentence was a smothered shriek. Keziah heeded not. Neither
did she heed the knock at the door. Her hands were opening and closing
convulsively.

"Be glad!" she repeated. "Glad to marry a good-for-nothin' sand-peep
like you! You sassy--GET down off that chair and out of this house! Get
down this minute!"

"I can't! This stovepipe's loose, I tell you! Be reason'ble, Keziah.
Do--don't you touch me! I'll fall if you do. Pl-e-ase, Keziah!--O Lordy!
I knew it. LAVINY!"

The door opened. On the threshold, arms akimbo and lips set tight, stood
Lavinia Pepper. Her brother's knees gave way; in their collapse they
struck the chair back; the rickety leg wabbled. Kyan grasped at the pipe
to save himself and, the next moment, chair, sections of stovepipe, and
Mr. Pepper disappeared with a mighty crash behind the high-boy. A cloud
of soot arose and obscured the view.

Keziah, too indignant even to laugh, glared at the wreck. In the doorway
of the kitchen Grace Van Horne, hammer in hand, leaned against the jamb,
her handkerchief at her mouth and tears in her eyes. Lavinia, majestic
and rigid, dominated the scene. From behind the high-boy came coughs,
sneezes, and emphatic ejaculations.

Miss Pepper was the first to speak.