There was indeed. Mr. E. Holliday Kendrick having taken possession of his new estate, immediately set about the improving and enlarging which Mr. Daniels had quoted him as contemplating. Carpenters, painters and gardeners were at work daily. The Kendrick motor cars and the Kendrick servants were much in evidence along East Wellmouth's main road. What had been done by the great man and his employees and what would be done in the near future kept the gossips busy. He was planning a new rose garden--"the finest from Buzzard's Bay down"; he had torn out the "whole broadside" of the music-room and was "cal'latin'" to make it twice as large as formerly; he was to build a large conservatory on the knoll by the stables. Hannah Parker declared she could not see the need of this.

"There's a tower onto the main buildin' already," she said, "pretty nigh as high as a lighthouse. I should think a body could see fur enough from that tower, without riggin' up a conservatory. Well, Mrs. Kendrick needn't ask ME to go up in it. I went to the top of the conservatory on Scargo Hill one time and I was so dizzy in the head I thought sure I'd fall right over the railin'."

The High Cliff boarders--Miss Timpson and Caleb Hammond especially--spent a great deal of time peering from the living-room windows and watching what they called the "goin's on" at the Kendrick estate. Occasionally they caught a glimpse of E. Holliday himself. The great man was inclined to greatness even in the physical meaning of the word, for he was tall and stout, and dignified, not to say pompous.

Arrayed in white flannels he issued orders to his hirelings and the hirelings obeyed him. When one is monarch of the larger portion of all he surveys it must be gratifying to feel that one looks the part. E.

Holliday looked it and apparently felt it.

Thankful, during this, her most prosperous season, was active from morning until night. When that night came she was ready for sleep, ready for more than she could afford to take. Emily was invaluable as manager and a.s.sistant, and Captain Obed Bangs a.s.sisted and advised in every way that he could. The captain had come to be what Mrs. Barnes called the "sheet anchor" of the High Cliff House. Whenever the advice of a man, or a man's help was needed, it was to Captain Bangs that she turned. And Captain Obed was always only too glad to help. Hannah Parker declared he spent more time at the boarding house than he did at her home.

If Emily Howes noticed how frequently the captain called--and it is probable that she did--she said nothing about it. John Kendrick must have noticed it, for occasionally, when he and Captain Obed were alone, he made an irrelevant remark like the following:

"Captain," he said, on one occasion, "I think you're growing younger every day."

"Who? Me? Go on, John! How you talk! I'm so old my timbers creak every time I go up a flight of stairs. They'll be sendin' me to the junk pile pretty soon."

"I guess not. You're as young as I am, every bit. Not in years, perhaps, but in spirit and energy. And you surprise me, too. I didn't know you were such a lady's man."

"Me? A lady's man? Tut, tut! Don't talk foolish. If I've cruised alone all these years I cal'late that's proof enough of how much a lady's man I am."

"That's no proof. You haven't happened upon the right sort of consort, that's all. Look at Brother Daniels; he is a bachelor, too, but everyone knows what a lady's man he is."

"Humph! You ain't comparin' me to Heman Daniels, are you?"

"No. No, of course not. I shouldn't dare. Comparing any mortal with Daniels would be heresy, wouldn't it? But you certainly are popular with the fair s.e.x. Why, even Imogene has fallen under the influence. She says Mrs. Barnes thinks you are the finest man in the world."

"She does, hey? Well," tartly, "she better mind her own affairs. I thought she rated Kenelm Parker about as high as anybody these days. He spends more time in that kitchen of hers--"

"There, there, Captain! Don't sidestep. The fair Imogene may be susceptible to Mr. Parker's charms, but that is probably because you haven't smiled upon her. If you--"

"Say, look here, John Kendrick! If you keep on talkin' loony in this way I'll begin to heave out a few hints myself. I may be as popular as you say, with Imogene and--and the help, but I know somebody else that is catchin' the same disease."

"Meaning Mr. Daniels, I suppose? He is popular, I admit."

"Is he? Well, you ought to know best. Seems to me I can call to mind somebody else that is fairly popular--in some lat.i.tudes. By the way, John, you don't seem to be as popular with Heman as you was at first."

"I'm sorry. My accepting my cousin's retainer may--"

"Oh, I didn't mean that. What was you and Emily doin' at Chris Badger's store yesterday afternoon?"

"Doing? Yesterday? Oh, yes! I did meet Miss Howes while I was on my way to the office and I waited while she did a little marketing. What in the world--"

"Nothin'. Fur's that goes I don't think either of you knew you was IN the world. I pa.s.sed right by and you didn't see me. Heman saw you, too.

What was your marketin'--vegetables?"

"I believe so. Captain, you're sidestepping again. It was of you, not me, I was speaking when--"

"Yes, I know. Well, I'm speakin' about you now. Heman saw you buyin'

them vegetables. Tomatters, wa'n't they?"

"Perhaps so. Have you been drinking? What difference does it make whether we bought tomatoes or potatoes?"

"Didn't make none--to me. But I bet Heman didn't like to see you two buyin' tomatters."

"For heaven's sake, why not?"

"Oh, 'cause he probably remembered, same as I did, what folks used to call 'em in the old days."

"You HAVE been drinking! What did they use to call them?"

"Love apples," replied Captain Obed, and strode away chuckling. John watched him go. He, too, laughed at first, but his laugh broke off in the middle and when he went into the house his expression was troubled and serious.

One remark of the captain's was true enough; John Kendrick's popularity with his professional rival was growing daily less. The pair were scrupulously polite to each other, but they seldom spoke except when others were present, and Mr. Daniels made it a point apparently to be present whenever Miss Howes was in the room. He continued to bring his little offerings of fruit and flowers and his invitations for drives and picnics and entertainments at the town hall were more frequent.

Sometimes Emily accepted these invitations; more often she refused them.

John also occasionally invited her to drive with him or to play tennis on his cousin's courts, and these invitations she treated as she did Heman's, refusing some and accepting others. She treated the pair with impartiality and yet Thankful was growing to believe there was a difference. Imogene, outspoken, expressed her own feelings in the matter when she said,

"Miss Emily likes Mr. Kendrick pretty well, don't she, ma'am?"

Thankful regarded her maidservant with disapproval.

"What makes you say that, Imogene?" she demanded. "Of course she likes him. Why shouldn't she?"

"She should, ma'am. And she does, too. And he likes her; that's plain enough."

"Imogene, what are you hintin' at? Do you mean that my cousin is in--in love with Mr. John Kendrick?"

"No'm. I don't say that, not yet. But there's signs that--"

"Signs! If you don't get those ridiculous story-book notions out of your head I don't know what I'll do to you. What do you know about folks bein' in love? You ain't in love, I hope; are you?"

Imogene hesitated. "No, ma'am," she replied. "I ain't. But--but maybe I might be, if I wanted to."

"For mercy sakes! The girl's crazy. You MIGHT be--if you wanted to! Who with? If you're thinkin' of marryin' anybody seems to me I ought to know it. Why, you ain't met more'n a dozen young fellers in this town, and I've taken good care to know who they were. If you're thinkin' of fallin' in love--or marryin'--"

Imogene interrupted. "I ain't," she declared. "And, anyhow, ma'am, gettin' married don't necessarily mean you're in love."

"It don't! Well, this beats all I ever--"

"No, ma'am, it don't. Sometimes it's a person's duty to get married."

Thankful gasped. "Duty!" she repeated. "You HAVE been readin' more of those books, in spite of your promisin' me you wouldn't."

"No, ma'am, I ain't. Honest, I ain't."

"Then what do you mean? Imogene, what man do you care enough for to make you feel it's your--your duty to marry him?"

"No man at all," declared Imogene, promptly and decisively. And that is all she would say on the subject.

Thankful repeated this astonishing conversation, or part of it, to Emily. The latter considered it a good joke. "That girl is a strange creature," she said, "and great fun. You never can tell what she will say or think. She is very romantic and that nonsense about duty and the rest of it undoubtedly is taken from some story she has read. You needn't worry, Auntie. Imogene worships you, and she will never leave you--to be married, or for any other reason."