"Then I will. I'll be glad to."

"Emily Howes, if you say one word to Cap'n Obed about borrowin' money from him I'll--I'll never speak to you afterwards. Go to Captain Obed.

The idea!"

"But why not, Auntie? He IS a friend, and--"

"Of course he is; that's the very reason. He is a friend and he'd probably lend it because he is, whether he knew he'd ever get it back or not. No, when I borrow money it'll be of somebody that lends it as a business deal, not from friendship."

"But, Auntie, you went to Mr. Cobb because he was your relative. You said that was the very reason why you went to him."

"Um, yes. Well, I may have GONE to him for that reason, but there ain't any relationship in that mortgage of his; don't you get the notion that there is."

Emily's next question, naturally, concerned the renewal of that mortgage. Mrs. Barnes said shortly that she guessed the renewal would be all right.

"He's comin' over to settle it with me pretty soon," she added. "Now don't worry your head off any more about mortgages and loans, Emily.

You're goin' to leave me pretty soon; let's not spend our last days together frettin' about money. That mortgage is all right. Maybe the extra loan will be, too. Maybe--why, maybe Mr. Kendrick would lend it, if I asked him."

"Mr. Kendrick? Why, Auntie, Mr. Kendrick has no money, or only a very little. He is doing well--very well, considering how short a time he has practised his profession here, but I'm sure he has no money to lend.

Why, he tells me--"

The expression of Mrs. Barnes' face must have conveyed a meaning; at any rate Emily's sentence broke off in the middle. She colored and seemed embarra.s.sed.

Thankful smiled. "Yes," she observed, drily, "I notice he tells you a lot of things--a whole lot more than he does anybody else. Generally speakin', he is about the closest-mouthed young man about his personal affairs that I ever run across. However, I ain't jealous, not a mite.

And 'twa'n't of him I was speakin'; 'twas his cousin, Mr. E. Holliday Kendrick. He's got money enough, I guess. Maybe he might make a loan on decent security. He's a possibility. I'll think him over."

Mr. E. Holliday and his doings were still East Wellmouth's favorite conversational topics. The great man was preparing to close his summer house and return to New York. His family had already gone--to Lenox, where they were to remain for a few weeks and then journey to Florida.

E. Holliday remained, several of the servants remaining with him, but he, too, was to go very soon. There were rumors that he remained because of other schemes concerning his new estate. Just what those schemes were no one seemed to know. If John Kendrick knew he told no one, not even Emily Howes.

But E. Holliday himself disclosed his plan and it was to Thankful Barnes that he did so. He called at the High Cliff House one afternoon and asked to see its proprietor. Thankful was a trifle fl.u.s.tered. It was the first call which her wealthy neighbor had made upon her, and she could not understand why he came at this late date.

"For mercy sakes, come into the livin'-room with me, Emily," she begged.

"I shan't know how to act in the face of all that money."

Emily was much amused. "I never knew you to be frightened of money before, Auntie," she said. "I thought you were considering borrowing some of this very--ahem--personage."

"Maybe I was, though I cal'late I should have took it out in consideration; I never would have gone to him and asked. But now the--what do you call it?--personage--come to me for somethin', the land knows what."

"Perhaps HE wants to borrow."

"Humph! Perhaps he does. Well, then, he's fishin' in the wrong puddle. Emily Howes, stop laughin' and makin' jokes and come into that livin'-room same as I ask you to."

But this Emily firmly declined to do. "He's not my caller, Auntie," she said. "He didn't even ask if I were in."

So Thankful went into the living-room alone to meet the personage. And she closed all doors behind her. "If you won't help you shan't listen,"

she declared. "And I don't know's I'll tell you a word after he's gone."

The call was a long one. It ended in an odd way. Emily, sitting by the dining-room window, heard the front door slam and, looking out, saw Mr. Kendrick stalking down the path, a frown on his face and outraged dignity in his bearing. A moment later Thankful burst into the dining-room. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked excited and angry.

"What do you think that--that walkin' money-bag came here for?" she demanded. "He came here to tell me I'd got to sell this place to him.

Yes, sell it to him, 'cause he wanted it. It didn't seem to make any difference what I wanted. Well, it will make a difference, I tell you that!"

When she had calmed sufficiently she told of the interview with her neighbor. E. Holliday had lost no time in stating his position. The High Cliff House, it appeared, was a source of annoyance to him and his. A boarding-house, no matter how genteel or well-conducted a boarding-house it may be, could not longer be tolerated in that situation. The boarders irritated him by trespa.s.sing upon his premises, by knocking their tennis b.a.l.l.s into his garden beds, by bathing and skylarking on the beach in plain sight from his verandas. And the house and barn interfered with his view. He wished to be perfectly reasonable in the matter; Mrs.

Barnes, of course, understood that. He was willing to pay for the privilege of having his own way. But, boiled down and shorn of politeness and subterfuge, his proposition was that Thankful should sell her property to him, after which he would either tear down the buildings on that property, or move them to a less objectionable site.

"But, Auntie," cried Emily, "of course you told him you didn't want to sell."

"Sartin I did. I told him all I had was invested here, that my first season had been a good one considerin' 'twas the first, and that my prospects were all I had a right to hope for. I told him I was sorry if my boarders had plagued him and I'd try to see they didn't do so any more. But I couldn't think of sellin' out."

"And what did he say to that?"

"What didn't he say? What I said didn't make a bit of difference.

He made proclamation that any reasonable price I might name he would consider. He wouldn't submit to what he called 'extortion' of course, but he would be perfectly fair, and all that. I kept sayin' no and he kept sayin' yes. Our talk got more and more sultry long towards the last of it. He told me that he made it a p'int to get what he wanted and he was goin' to get it now. One thing he told me I didn't know afore, and it's kind of odd, too. He said the land this house sits on used to belong to him once. His father left it to him. He sold it a long while ago, afore my Uncle Abner bought, I guess. Now he's sorry he sold."

"That was queer, what else did he say?"

"Oh, he said a whole lot about his desire to make East Wellmouth his permanent residence, about the taxes he paid, and what he meant to do for the town. I told him that was all right and fine and the town appreciated it, but that I'd got to think of myself; this boardin'-house idea was a life-long ambition of mine and I couldn't give it up."

"And how did it end?"

"Just where it begun. His last words to me was that if I wouldn't listen to reason then he'd have to try other ways. And he warned me that he should try 'em. I said go ahead and try, or words not quite so sa.s.sy but meanin' the same. And out he marched. Oh, Emily, WHAT do you suppose he'll try? He can't MAKE me sell out, can he? Oh, dear! Oh, dear! here's more trouble. And I thought there was enough already!"

Emily did her best to rea.s.sure her relative, telling the latter that of course she could not be forced into parting with what was her own and that Mr. Kendrick was talking merely for effect; but it was plain that Miss Howes herself was troubled.

"I think you should consult a lawyer, Auntie," she said. "I am sure I am right, and that that man can't make you do what you don't want to do.

But I don't know, of course, and a lawyer would know because that is his business. Why don't you ask John--Mr. John Kendrick, I mean? He will advise you."

Thankful nodded. "I will," she said.

But John did not come home for dinner that night. He had business which called him to Wellmouth Centre that afternoon and it was late in the evening when he returned. Heman Daniels was late for dinner also, and when he entered the dining-room there was an air of mystery and importance about him which everyone noticed. Miss Timpson, who seldom permitted reticence to interfere with curiosity, asked him what was the matter.

"I do declare, Mr. Daniels," she said, "you look as if you had the cares of the nation on your shoulders tonight. Has anything gone wrong with one of those important cases of yours?"

Mr. Daniels shook his head. "No," he answered, gravely. "My cases are progressing satisfactorily. My worries just now are not professional.

I heard some news this afternoon which--er--upset me somewhat, that is all."

"News? Upsettin' news? Land sakes, do tell us! What is it?"

But Mr. Daniels refused to tell. The news concerned other people, he said, and he was not at liberty to tell. He trusted Miss Timpson would excuse him under the circ.u.mstances.

Miss Timpson was therefore obliged to excuse him, though it was plain that she did so under protest. She made several more or less direct attempts to learn the secret and, failing, went out to attend prayer-meeting. Caleb Hammond went out also, though the club, not prayer-meeting, was his announced destination. Heman finished his dinner alone. When he had finished he sent word by Imogene that when Miss Howes was at liberty he should like to speak with her.

Emily, who was in the kitchen with Thankful and Captain Obed, the latter having, as usual, dropped in on his way to the postoffice, seemed in no hurry to speak with Mr. Daniels. It was not until half an hour later, when the message was repeated, that she bade the captain good night and started for the living-room. Captain Obed and Thankful smiled at each other.

"Heman's a heap more anxious to see her than she is to see him,"

observed the former. "He's pretty fur gone in that direction, judgin' by the weather signs."

Thankful nodded.