“Who lives in that brilliant emerald house about half a mile up the road?” asked Gilbert.
Captain Jim smiled delightedly.
“Miss Cornelia Bryant. She’ll likely be over to see you soon, seeing you’re Presbyterians. If you were Methodists she wouldn’t come at all. Cornelia has a holy horror of Methodists.”
“She’s quite a character,” chuckled Doctor Dave. “A most inveterate man-hater!”
“Sour grapes?” queried Gilbert, laughing.
“No, ’tisn’t sour grapes,” answered Captain Jim seriously. “Cornelia could have had her pick when she was young. Even yet she’s only to say the word to see the old widowers jump. She jest seems to have been born with a sort of chronic spite agin men and Methodists. She’s got the bitterest tongue and the kindest heart in Four Winds. Wherever there’s any trouble, that woman is there, doing everything to help in the tenderest way. She never says a harsh word about another woman, and if she likes to card us poor scalawags of men down I reckon our tough old hides can stand it.”
“She always speaks well of you, Captain Jim,” said Mrs. Doctor.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. I don’t half like it. It makes me feel as if there must be something sorter unnateral about me.”
