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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Not much, but," remembering the old story, "I know Bayport. Humph! speaking of ministers, here is one now." Judson, the curate, was approaching across the lawn. Hephzy hastily removed the lid of the teapot. "Yes," she said, with a sigh of relief, "there's enough tea left, though you mustn't have any more, Hosy. Mr. Judson always takes three cups."
She stopped at the beginning of the sentence. I had taken Frances by the hand and led her up to where she was standing. Hephzy said nothing, she stood there and stared at us, but the coat fell to the floor. "Hephzy," said I, "I've come to make an apology. I believe in dreams and presentiments and Spiritualism and all the rest of it now. You were right.
Filling her silly 'ead with lies about your goodness and all that. Making her fall in love with you and " I sprang forward. "WHAT?" I cried. "What are you saying?" Hephzy was frightened. "Hosy," she cried, "don't look so. Don't! You frighten me." I scarcely heard her. "WHAT did you say?" I demanded, addressing Cripps, who shrank back, rather alarmed apparently. "Why, you scoundrel!
Don't let anyone eat him on the half-shell, or anything like that." Hephzy smiled. "They'd have to eat me first," she said, "and I'm pretty old and tough. I'll look after him, Mr. Campbell, don't you worry." "I don't. Good luck to you both and good-by." A final handshake and he was gone. Hephzy looked after him.
He said "Really," but he did not believe me, I'm certain. He was a good fellow, and intelligent, but his ideas of "the States" had been gathered, largely, I think, from newspapers and novels. He was convinced that most Americans were confirmed neurotics and dyspeptics, just as Hephzy had believed all Englishmen wore side-whiskers. I changed the conversation as soon as I could.
"And that leads me to ask if Miss Cahoon and yourself will not join us," he went on. "I could easily arrange for two places." I looked at Hephzy. Her face expressed decided disapproval and she shook her head. "Thank you, Captain Stone," I said; "but we have a table to ourselves and are very comfortable. We should not think of troubling you to that extent."
Hephzy, whose New England training had imbued her with the conviction that all people connected with the stage must be highly undesirable as acquaintances, was quite satisfied. "Of course I'm sorry she isn't well," she confided to me "but I'm awfully glad she won't be at our table. I shouldn't want to hurt her feelin's, but I couldn't talk to her as I would to an ordinary person.
But on the morning of the second day she was much better and willing, even anxious to talk. She assailed Hephzy with questions and Hephzy, although she tried to avoid answering most, was obliged to answer some of them. She reported the interview to me during luncheon. "She didn't seem to remember much about comin' here, or what happened before or afterward," said Hephzy.
"I'm not your cousin, either at least not more than a nineteenth cousin. And if you begin calling me 'Hosy' I shall I don't know what I shall do." "Dear me, how particular you are! Well then, au revoir Kent." When Hephzy came to the study I was still seated in the rector's chair. She was brimful full of curiosity, I know, and ready to ask a dozen questions at once.
But when at last she began to believe at least to the extent of believing that I had sent the telegram her next remark was characteristic. "But I I can't go, Hosy," declared Hephzibah. "I CAN'T. Who who would take care of the cat and the hens?" In Which Hephzy and I and the Plutonia Sail Together
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