"I was just tryin' to help Keziah take down her stovepipe," he
explained. "You see, she didn't have no man to--"

"Yes, I see. Well, I judge you got it down. Now you go out to the sink
and wash your face. Heavens and earth! Look at them clothes!"

"I do hope you didn't hurt yourself, Abishai," said the sympathetic
Keziah. Then, as remembrance of what had led to the upset came to her,
she added: "Though I will say 'twas your own fault and nobody else's."

Lavinia whirled on her.

"His own fault, was it?" she repeated, her voice shrill and trembling.
"Thank you very much, marm. I cal'late 'twas his own fault comin'
here, too, wa'n't it? Nobody led him on, I s'pose. Nobody put him up to
riggin' out in his best bib and tucker and sneakin' here the minute I
was out of the house. No, nobody did! Of COURSE not!"

"No, nobody did," said Keziah briskly. "And you may know what you're
hintin' at, but I don't."

"Dear me! Ain't we innocent! We've got plenty of money, WE have.
Widowers with property ain't no attraction to US. Everybody knows
that--oh, yes! And they never talk of such a thing--oh, no! Folks don't
say that--that--Well," with a snarl in the direction of the kitchen,
"are you anywheres nigh clean yet? Get your coat and hat on and come
home with me."

She jerked her brother into the blue coat, jammed the tall hat down upon
his head, and, seizing him by the arm, stalked to the door.