“Yes, yes.  Glad to see you.  Take off your hat.  My sakes! it’s pretty wet.  How did Laviny come to let you—­I mean how’d you come to wear a beaver such a mornin’s this?”

Kyan removed the silk hat and inspected its limp grandeur ruefully.

“I—­I—­” he began.  “Well, the fact is, I come out by myself.  You see, Laviny’s gone up to Sarah B.’s to talk church doin’s.  I—­I—­well, I kind of wanted to speak with you about somethin’, Keziah, so—­Oh!  I didn’t see you, Gracie.  Good mornin’.”

He didn’t seem overjoyed to see Miss Van Horne, as it was.  In fact, he reddened perceptibly and backed toward the door.  The girl, her eyes twinkling, took up her jacket and hat.

“Oh!  I’m not going to stop, Mr. Pepper,” she said.  “I was only helping Aunt Keziah a little, that’s all.  I must run on now.”

“Run on—­nonsense!” declared Keziah decisively.  “You’re goin’ to stay right here and help us get that stovepipe down.  And ’Bishy’ll help, too.  Won’t you, ’Bish?”

The stovepipe was attached to the “air-tight” in the dining room.  It—­the pipe—­rose perpendicularly for a few feet and then extended horizontally, over the high-boy, until it entered the wall.  Kyan looked at it and then at his “Sunday clothes.”

“Why, I’d be glad to, of course,” he declared with dubious enthusiasm.  “But I don’t know’s I’ll have time.  Perhaps I’d better come later and do it.  Laviny, she—­”

“Oh, Laviny can spare you for a few minutes, I guess; ’specially as she don’t know you’re out.  Better take your coat off, hadn’t you?  Grace, fetch one of those chairs for Ky—­for ’Bishy to stand in.”

Grace obediently brought the chair.  It happened to be the one with a rickety leg, but its owner was helping the reluctant Abishai remove the long-tailed blue coat which had been his wedding garment and had adorned his person on occasions of ceremony ever since.  She did not notice the chair.

“It’s real good of you to offer to help,” she said.  “Grace and I didn’t hardly dast to try it alone.  That pipe’s been up so long that I wouldn’t wonder if ’twas chock-full of soot.  If you’re careful, though, I don’t believe you’ll get any on you.  Never mind the floor; I’m goin’ to wash that before I leave.”

Reluctantly, slowly, the unwilling Mr. Pepper suffered himself to be led to the chair.  He mounted it and gingerly took hold of the pipe.

“Better loosen it at the stove hole first,” advised Keziah.  “What was it you wanted to see me about, ’Bish?”

“Oh, nothin’, nothin’,” was the hasty response.  “Nothin’ of any account—­that is to say—­”

He turned redder than ever and wrenched at the pipe.  It loosened at its lower end and the wires holding it in suspension shook.

“I guess,” observed the lady of the house, “that you’d better move that chest of drawers out so’s you can get behind it.  Grace, you help me.  There! that’s better.  Now move your chair.”