Mr. Langworthy’s serious half-perfunctory manner here took on an appearance of interest.  “Yes—­I’ve bin thinkin’ that way.  Thar’s a young woman helpin’ in the kitchen ez might do, though I’m not certain, and I ain’t lettin’ on anything as yet.  You might take a look at her, Rosalie,—­I orter say Mrs. Byers ez is,—­and kinder size her up, and gimme the result.  It’s still wantin’ seven minutes o’ schedule time afore the stage goes, and—­if you ain’t wantin’ more food”—­delicately, as became a landlord—­“and ain’t got anythin’ else to do, it might pass the time.”

Strange as it may seem, Mrs. Byers here displayed an equal animation in her fresh face as she rose promptly to her feet and began to rearrange her dust cloak around her buxom figure.  “I don’t mind, Abner,” she said, “and I don’t think that Mr. Byers would mind either;” then seeing Langworthy hesitating at the latter unexpected suggestion, she added confidently, “and I wouldn’t mind even if he did, for I’m sure if I don’t know the kind o’ woman you’d be likely to need, I don’t know who would.  Only last week I was sayin’ like that to Mr. Byers”—­

“To Mr. Byers?” said Abner, with some surprise.

“Yes—­to him.  I said, ’We’ve been married three years, Constantine, and ef I don’t know by this time what kind o’ woman you need now—­and might need in future—­why, thar ain’t much use in matrimony.’”

“You was always wise, Rosalie,” said Abner, with reminiscent appreciation.

“I was always there, Abner,” returned Mrs. Byers, with a complacent show of dimples, which she, however, chastened into that resignation which seemed characteristic of the pair.  “Let’s see your ’intended’—­as might be.”

Thus supported, Mr. Langworthy led Mrs. Byers into the hall through a crowd of loungers, into a smaller hall, and there opened the door of the kitchen.  It was a large room, whose windows were half darkened by the encompassing pines which still pressed around the house on the scantily cleared site.  A number of men and women, among them a Chinaman and a negro, were engaged in washing dishes and other culinary duties; and beside the window stood a young blonde girl, who was wiping a tin pan which she was also using to hide a burst of laughter evidently caused by the abrupt entrance of her employer.  A quantity of fluffy hair and part of a white, bared arm were nevertheless visible outside the disk, and Mrs. Byers gathered from the direction of Mr. Langworthy’s eyes, assisted by a slight nudge from his elbow, that this was the selected fair one.  His feeble explanatory introduction, addressed to the occupants generally, “Just showing the house to Mrs.—­er—­Dusenberry,” convinced her that the circumstances of his having been divorced he had not yet confided to the young woman.  As he turned almost immediately away, Mrs. Byers in following him managed to get a better look at the girl, as she was exchanging some facetious remark to a neighbor.  Mr. Langworthy did not speak until they had reached the deserted dining-room again.