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"He has steered straight for the Widow Keens's, as sure as A is apple-dumpling," remarked Miss Persis, peering after him from the window. "Well, I must admit I wouldn't have thought of Captain Ben's being en-a-mored after such a sickly piece of business. But men never know what they want. Won't you just hand me that gum-cam-phyer bottle, now you are up? It is on that chest of drawers behind you."
"No more they don't," returned Miss Tame, with a plaintive cadence, taking a sniff from the camphor-bottle on the way. "However, I don't begrutch him to her, I don't know as I do. It will make her a good hum, though, if she concludes to make arrangements." Meantime, Captain Ben Lundy's head was wellnigh to Mrs. Keens's door, for it was situated only around the first sand-hill.
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