“He’s comin’ up yer to-night, bringin’ a friend of his—­a patient that he wants us to board and keep for three weeks until he’s well agin,” continued Mr. Rivers.  “Ye know how the doctor used to rave about the pure air on our hill.”

Mrs. Rivers shivered slightly, and drew her shawl over her shoulders, but nodded a patient assent.

“Well, he says it’s just what that patient oughter have to cure him.  He’s had lung fever and other things, and this yer air and gin’ral quiet is bound to set him up.  We’re to board and keep him without any fuss or feathers, and the doctor sez he’ll pay liberal for it.  This yer’s what he sez,” concluded Mr. Rivers, reading from the letter:  “’He is now fully convalescent, though weak, and really requires no other medicine than the—­ozone’—­yes, that’s what the doctor calls it—­’of Windy Hill, and in fact as little attendance as possible.  I will not let him keep even his negro servant with him.  He’ll give you no trouble, if he can be prevailed upon to stay the whole time of his cure.’”

“There’s our spare room—­it hasn’t been used since Parson Greenwood was here,” said Mrs. Rivers reflectively.  “Melinda could put it to rights in an hour.  At what time will he come?”

“He’d come about nine.  They drive over from Hightown depot.  But,” he added grimly, “here ye are orderin’ rooms to be done up and ye don’t know who for.”

“You said a friend of Dr. Duchesne,” returned Mrs. Rivers simply.

“Dr. Duchesne has many friends that you and me mightn’t cotton to,” said her husband.  “This man is Jack Hamlin.”  As his wife’s remote and introspective black eyes returned only vacancy, he added quickly.  “The noted gambler!”

“Gambler?” echoed his wife, still vaguely.

“Yes—­reg’lar; it’s his business.”

“Goodness, Seth!  He can’t expect to do it here.”

“No,” said Seth quickly, with that sense of fairness to his fellow man which most women find it so difficult to understand.  “No—­and he probably won’t mention the word ‘card’ while he’s here.”

“Well?” said Mrs. Rivers interrogatively.

“And,” continued Seth, seeing that the objection was not pressed, “he’s one of them desprit men!  A reg’lar fighter!  Killed two or three men in dools!”

Mrs. Rivers stared.  “What could Dr. Duchesne have been thinking of?  Why, we wouldn’t be safe in the house with him!”

Again Seth’s sense of equity triumphed.  “I never heard of his fightin’ anybody but his own kind, and when he was bullyragged.  And ez to women he’s quite t’other way in fact, and that’s why I think ye oughter know it afore you let him come.  He don’t go round with decent women.  In fact”—­But here Mr. Rivers, in the sanctity of conjugal confidences and the fullness of Bible reading, used a few strong scriptural substantives happily unnecessary to repeat here.

“Seth!” said Mrs. Rivers suddenly, “you seem to know this man.”