Although at every point she was far from
vogue, she impressed me not unpleasantly. Even her voice, a
magnificently hoarse rumble, was primed with a sort of uncouth
good-will which one might accept in the States. Of course it would
never do with us.
I fancied I could at once detect why they had called her the "Mixer."
She embraced Mrs. Effie with an air of being about to strangle the
woman; she affectionately wrung the hands of Cousin Egbert, and had
grasped my own tightly before I could evade her, not having looked for
that sort of thing.
"That's Cousin Egbert's man!" called Mrs. Effie. But even then the
powerful creature would not release me until her daughter had called
sharply, "Maw! Don't you hear? He's a _man_!" Nevertheless she
gave my hand a parting shake before turning to the others.
"Glad to see a human face at last!" she boomed. "Here I've been a
month in this dinky hole," which I thought strange, since we were
surrounded by league upon league of the primal wilderness. "Cooped up
like a hen in a barrel," she added in tones that must have carried
well out over the lake.
"Cousin Egbert's man," repeated Mrs. Effie, a little ostentatiously, I
thought. "Poor Egbert's so dependent on him--quite helpless without
him."
Cousin Egbert muttered sullenly to himself as he assisted me with the
bags.
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