The partners liked John Keith. They considered him, as Captain Shad said, "a first-rate, everyday sort of feller," who did not patronize nor put on airs, even though he was a "summer man" and rich. When he talked with them it was of things they understood, local affairs, the cranberry crop, fishing, and the doings of the Board of Selectmen. He was willing to listen as well as talk and he did not refer to permanent residents as "natives," a habit of his wife's which irritated the Captain extremely.

"Jumpin' fire!" said the latter on one occasion, "every time that woman calls us town folks 'natives' I feel as if she cal'lated I lived up a tree and chucked coconuts at folks. I don't wonder some of the South Sea Islands heathen eat missionaries. If I ATE that woman she might agree with me; she don't as 'tis. Every time I say yes she says no, and that makes me think yes harder'n ever."

So Mrs. Keith was not popular with the South Harniss natives, perhaps because she tried so hard to be; her husband, who apparently did not try to be, was. He and his opinions were liked and respected. When he came into the store, therefore, on this occasion, Zoeth and Shad welcomed him, asked him to sit down, and the conversation began with the astonishing rise in the price of sea-front property and drifted from that to other timely and general topics.

Just how it drifted to Mary-'Gusta and her future neither of the partners could have told--however, drift there it did, and they found themselves chanting her praises to their caller, who seemed much interested.

"She is a remarkably capable girl," observed Mr. Keith. "And before we realize it she will be a young woman. Are you planning that she shall keep store and keep house for you the rest of her life, or the rest of yours?"

Zoeth shook his head. "Why," he said, mildly, "I don't know's we've planned much about it so fur. Those things sort of take care of themselves, always seemed to me. Or the Almighty takes care of 'em for us."

Their visitor smiled. "Someone else will be willing and anxious to take care of her before many years, or I miss my guess," he said. "She is likely to marry, you know. There must be some promising young fellows down here."

Shadrach sniffed. It was a subject he never discussed with his partner and did not like even to think about. The remark of the hat and cap drummer concerning the coming of a "Mr. Right" had troubled him not a little.

"Ugh!" he grunted; "there's promisin' ones enough. Most of those that are contented to stay here in South Harniss are nothin' BUT promise; they ain't so strong on makin' good. 'Tain't like 'twas when Zoeth and me were young ourselves. Now all the smart, ambitious boys go up to the city to work."

"Some of the girls go up there, too, don't they? To school, or college?

Didn't I hear that Christopher Mullet's daughter was at school in Bridgewater?"

"Ugh!" grunted Shadrach again. "I cal'late you did hear. If you didn't you're the only one in town that ain't. Becky Mullet--yes, and Chris, too--ain't done anything but brag about their Irene's goin' off to what they call 'finishin' school.' Judas! I see HER finish. She ain't got--I swan that girl ain't got anything in her head but gas, and every time she opens her mouth she loses enough of that to keep a lighthouse lit up all night."

"Shadrach," murmured Zoeth, "don't say such unlikely things about folks.

Be charitable as you can."

"Judas! I am--as much as I can. If I wasn't charitable to that Mullet girl I'd be talkin' yet. I hove to afore I'd got scarcely under way."

Keith put in a word. "Finishing schools are not all bad, by any means,"

he said. "There are various kinds and grades, of course, but a good private school for girls is a fine thing. It teaches them to meet and judge people of all kinds, and that fine feathers don't always make fine birds. Then, too, a girl at a good school of that sort is under strict discipline and her acquaintances, male acquaintances especially, are chosen with care. Sixteen to eighteen is a dangerous age for the average girl.

"By the way," he added, "did your niece tell you of her experience with that traveling salesman the other day, the fellow selling Christmas novelties? No? Well, I happened to be here at the time. It was rather interesting."

He told of Mary-'Gusta's session with Mr. Kron. The partners listened with growing indignation.

"Well, by the jumpin'!" exclaimed Captain Shad. "Did you ever hear such bra.s.sy talk in your life! I wish to thunder I'd been here. There'd have been one mighty sick patient ready for the doctor and he wouldn't have been a South Harniss native either. But Mary-'Gusta didn't take none of his sauce, I tell you; that girl of ours is all right!"

"Yes, she is all right. But she didn't enjoy the experience, that was plain enough, and, so far as I can see, she is likely to have a good many others of the same kind. Now it isn't my business, I know that; you can tell me to shut up and clear out any time you like, of course; but do you think it is just fair to a girl like your niece to condemn her to a life of storekeeping or the alternative of marrying one of the promising young men you've been talking about? Don't you think such a girl as she is deserves a chance; every chance you can give her?"

The two partners stared at him open-mouthed. Shadrach, as usual, spoke first.

"Condemn her?" he repeated. "Condemn Mary-'Gusta? A chance? Why--"

"Hush, Shadrach," interrupted Zoeth. "Mr. Keith ain't done yet. He's goin' to tell us what he means. Go on, Mr. Keith, what do you mean?"

Keith, having broken the ice, and found the water not so chilly as he had feared it might be, plunged in.

"Well, I mean this," he said. "I confess frankly that I have been very favorably impressed by your niece. She is an unusual girl--unusually pretty, of course, but much more than that. She is simple and brave and sensible and frank. If she were my daughter I should be very proud of her. I know you are. She should have, it seems to me, the opportunity to make the most of her qualities and personality. I've been thinking about her a great deal ever since my call at the store here the other day. Now I've got a suggestion to make. You can take it or leave it, but I a.s.sure you it is made with the best of intentions and solely in her interest as I see it; and I hope you'll take it after you've thought it over. Here it is."

He went on to impart the suggestion. His hearers listened, Zoeth silently and Shadrach with occasional mutterings and exclamations.

"So there you are," said Keith in conclusion. "The school is a good one, one of the best in Boston. Two years there will do worlds for your niece. It has done worlds for other girls I have known. It is rather expensive, of course, but, as I understand it, Mary has money of her own of which you, as her guardians, have charge. She couldn't spend a portion of that money to better advantage."

Zoeth said nothing, but he looked at the Captain and the Captain looked at him.

"She HAS money of her own, hasn't she?" inquired Mr. Keith. "I have been told she was left an independent fortune by her father."

There was another interval of silence. The partners were quite aware of the general belief in Mary-'Gusta's independent fortune. They had not discouraged that belief. It was no one's business but theirs and their respect and affection for Marcellus Hall had prevented the disclosure of the latter's poverty. That secret not even Mary-'Gusta knew; she, too, believed that the money which paid for her clothes and board and all the rest was her own. Her uncles had helped her to think so.

So when their visitor asked the pointed question Zoeth looked at Shadrach and the latter shook his head.

"Yup," he answered, brusquely, "it's true enough, I cal'late. Marcellus left her all he had. But--but look here, Mr. Keith. Do I understand you to advise us to send Mary-'Gusta away--to school--for two years? Jumpin'

fire! How--how could we? She--why, what would we do without her?"

"It would be harder for you here in the store, of course."

"The store! 'Tain't the store I'm thinkin' about; it's me and Zoeth.

What'll WE do without her? Why, she--why, no daughter could mean more to us than that girl does, and if Zoeth and me was her own--er--mother and father we couldn't think more of her. We'd be adrift and out of sight of land if Mary-'Gusta went away. No, no, we couldn't think of such a thing."

"Not even for her sake? She's worth a pretty big sacrifice, a girl like that."

A long discussion followed, a discussion interrupted by the arrival of occasional customers but resumed as soon as each of these individuals departed. Zoeth asked a question.

"This--this Miss--er--What's-her-name's school you're talkin' about," he asked, "a reg'lar boardin' school, is it?"

"Yes, but there are day pupils. It was my idea, provided you two were willing to listen to my suggestion at all, to suggest that Mary attend as a day pupil. She might live near the school instead of at it. That would be much less expensive."

"Um-hm," mused Shadrach, "but--but she'd have to live somewheres, and I for one would want to be mighty particular what sort of a place she lived at."

"Naturally. Well, I have thought of that, too, and here is suggestion number three: I have a cousin--a cousin of my first wife's--who lives on Pinckney Street, which is not far from the Misses Cabot's school. This cousin--Mrs. Wyeth is her name--is a widow and she hasn't too much money. She doesn't keep a boarding house exactly, but she has been known to take a few of what she calls 'paying guests.' She's very Bostonian and very particular concerning the references and family connections of those guests, but I think I could manage that. If your niece were placed in her care she would have a real home and meet only the sort of people you would wish her to meet."

He might have added that Mrs. Wyeth, being under many obligations, pecuniary and otherwise, to her wealthy Chicago relative, would need only a hint from him to give Mary-'Gusta the care and attention of a parent, a very particular, Boston first-family parent. But, unlike his present wife, he was not in the habit of referring to his charities, so he kept this information to himself.

Zoeth sighed. "I declare," he said, "you're mighty kind in all this, Mr. Keith. I know that you're sartin this goin' away to school would do Mary-'Gusta a sight of good. But--but I swan I--I can't hardly bear to think of our lettin' her go away from us."

"I don't wonder at that. Just think it over and we'll have another talk later."

CHAPTER X

Mr. Keith and the Captain had that later talk--several talks, in fact--and a week after their first one Captain Shadrach suddenly announced that he was cal'latin' to run up to Boston just for a day on business and that Mary-'Gusta had better go along with him for company.

Zoeth could tend store and get along all right until they returned. The girl was not so certain of the getting along all right, but Mr. Hamilton as well as the Captain insisted, so she consented at last. The Boston trip was not exactly a novelty to her--she had visited the city a number of times during the past few years--but a holiday with Uncle Shad was always good fun.

They took the early morning train and reached Boston about ten o'clock.

Shadrach's business in the city seemed to be of a rather vague nature this time. They called at the offices of two or three of his old friends--ship-chandlers and marine outfitters on Commercial Street and Atlantic Avenue--and then the Captain, looking at his watch, announced that it was pretty nigh noontime and he cal'lated they had better be cruisin' up towards Pinckney Street. "Got an errand up in that lat.i.tude," he added.