Mr. Opp

								

hat, kind of face and gentle of voice, but with the dignity of conscious
superiority. The day of his arrival he called upon Mrs. Opp; the second
day he took a preacher with him and married her. Whatever old romance
had led to this climax could only be dimly guessed at by the curious
townspeople.
For two years Mr. Moore fought for the mind of his old sweetheart as he
had long ago fought for her heart. He opened the house to the sunshine,
and coaxed the little lady back into the world she had forgotten. The
boys were sent to school, the old games and fancies were forbidden.
Gradually the color returned to her cheeks, and the light to her eyes.
Then little Kippy was born, and happiness such as seldom comes to one
who has tasted the dregs of life came to the frail little woman in the
big four-poster bed. For ten days she held the baby fingers to her
heart, and watched the little blossom of a maid unfold.
But one black night, when the rain beat against the panes, and the moan
of the river sounded in her ears, she suddenly sat up in bed: she had
heard the whistle of his boat! Full of dumb terror she crept to the
window, and with her face pressed against the glass she waited and
watched. The present was swallowed up in the past. She was once more
alone, unloved, afraid. Stealthily snatching a cloak, she crept down
into the garden, feeling her way through the sodden grass, and the
jimpson weed which the rain had beaten down.
And ever since, when children pass the house on their way to school,
they peep through the broken fence rails, and point out to one another,
in awed tones, the tree under which Miss Kippy's mother killed herself.
Then they look half-fearfully at the windows in the hope of catching a
glimpse of Miss Kippy herself.
For Kippy had had a long illness in her thirteenth year which left her
with the face and mind of a little child, and kindly, shabby Mr. Moore,
having made the supreme effort of his life, from this time on ceased to
struggle against the weakness that for half a lifetime had beset him,
and sought oblivion in innocuous but perpetual libations. The one duty
which he recognized was the care of his invalid daughter.
As soon as they were old enough, the boys launched their small craft and
set forth to seek their fortunes. Ben, with no cargo on board but his
own desires, went west and found a snug and comfortable harbor, while D.
Webster, the hope of his mother and the pride of the town, was at
thirty-five still putting out to sea, with all sail set, only to find
himself again and again aground on the sandbars of the old familiar
Cove.

III

Jimmy Fallows, being the boastful possessor of the fleetest horse in
town, was the first to return from the funeral. Extricating himself with
some difficulty from the narrow-seated buggy, he held out his hand to
Mrs. Fallows. But that imposing lady, evidently offended with her jovial
lord, refused his proffered aid, and clambered out over the wheel on the