The captain left the office, still protesting. He was hurt and angry.

It was not until later he remembered he had not told Kendrick that Heman Daniels must have spoken without authority when he declared himself the chosen representative of Mrs. Barnes and Emily in all matters between the pair and John. Heman could not have been given such authority because, according to Thankful's story, she and Miss Howes had immediately gone upstairs after leaving the living-room. Daniels could have spoken with them again that evening. But when Captain Obed remembered this it was too late. Thankful had asked Mr. Daniels to take her case, provided the attempt at ousting her from her property ever reached legal proceedings. And Emily Howes left East Wellmouth two days later.

She had not intended to leave for South Middleboro so soon; she had planned to remain another week before going back to her school duties.

But there came a letter from the committee asking her to return as soon as possible and she suddenly announced her determination to go at once.

Thankful at first tried to dissuade her, but soon gave up the attempt.

It was quite evident that Emily meant to go and equally certain, in her cousin's mind, that the reason for the sudden departure was the scene with John Kendrick. Emily refused to discuss the latter's conduct or to permit the mention of his name. She seemed reluctant even to speak of the Holliday Kendrick matter, although all of East Wellmouth was now talking of little else. When Mrs. Barnes, driven to desperation, begged her to say what should be done, she shook her head.

"I wish I could tell you, Auntie," she said, "but I can't. Perhaps you don't need to do anything yet. Mr. Daniels says the idea that that man can force you into selling is ridiculous."

"I know he does. But I'm a woman, Emily, and what I don't know about law would fill a bigger library than there is in this town by a consider'ble sight. It's always the woman, particularly a widow woman, that gets the worst of it in this kind of thing. I'd feel better if I knew somebody was lookin' out for me. Oh dear, if only Mr. John Kendrick hadn't--"

"Auntie, please."

"Yes, I know. But it don't seem as if he could act so to me. It don't seem--"

"Hush! It is quite evident he can. Don't say any more."

"Well, I won't. But what shall I do? Shall I put it all in Mr. Daniels'

hands? He says he'll be glad to help; in fact about everybody thinks he is helpin', I guess. Hannah Parker told me--"

"Don't, Auntie, don't. Put it in Mr. Daniels' hands, if you think best.

I suppose it is all you can do. Yes, let Mr. Daniels handle it for you."

"All right. I'll tell him you and I have agreed--"

"No. Tell him nothing of the sort. Don't bring my name into the matter."

"But, Emily, you don't think I ought to sell--"

"No! No! Of course I don't think so. If I were you I should fight to the last ditch. I would never give in--never! Oh, Auntie, I feel wicked and mean to leave you now, with all this new trouble; but I must--I must. I can't stay here--I--"

"There, there, Emily, dear! I understand, I guess. I know how hard it is for you. And I thought so much of him, too. I thought he was such a fine young--"

"Aunt Thankful, are you daring to hint that I--I--care in the least for that--him? How dare you insinuate such a thing to me? I--I despise him!"

"Yes, yes," hastily. "Course you do, course you do. Well, we won't worry about that, any of it. Mr. Daniels says there's nothin' to worry about anyhow, and I'll tell him he can do what he thinks ought to be done when it's necessary. Now let's finish up that packin' of yours, dearie."

Thankful did not trust herself to accompany her cousin to Wellmouth Centre. She was finding it hard enough to face the coming separation with outward cheerfulness, and the long ride to the railway station she found to be too great a strain. So she made the lameness of George Washington's off fore leg an excuse for keeping that personage in the stable, and it was in Winnie S.'s depot-wagon that Emily journeyed to the Centre.

They said good-by at the front gate. Emily, too, was trying to appear cheerful, and the parting was hurried.

"Good-by, Auntie," she said. "Take care of yourself. Write often and I will answer, I promise you. I know you'll be lonely after I've gone, but I have a plan--a secret. If I can carry it through you won't be SO lonely, I'm pretty sure. And don't worry, will you? The mortgage is all right and as for the other thing--well, that will be all right, too. You won't worry, will you?"

"No, no; I'll be too busy to worry. And you'll come down for the Christmas vacation? You will, won't you?"

"I'll try . . . I mean I will if I can arrange it. Good-by, dear."

The depot-wagon rattled out of the yard. Winnie S. pulled up at the gate to shout a bit of news.

"Say, Mrs. Barnes," he yelled, "we got one of your boarders over to our place now. John Kendrick's come there to live. Lots of folks are down on him 'count of his heavin' you over and takin' up along with Mr.

Holliday; but Dad says he don't care about that so long's he pays his board reg'lar. Git dap, Old Hundred!"

A last wave of Thankful's hand, the answering wave of a handkerchief from the rear seat of the depot-wagon, and the parting was over.

Thankful went into the house. Lonely! She had never been more lonely in her life, except when the news of her husband's death was brought to her. The pang of loneliness which followed her brother Jedediah's departure for the Klondike was as nothing to this. She had promised not to worry, and she must keep that promise, but there was certainly plenty to cause worry. The mortgage which Emily had so comfortably declared "all right" was far from that. Solomon Cobb had not been near her since their interview. He had not yet said that he would renew the mortgage when it fell due. Mrs. Barnes began to fear that he did not intend to renew it.

Heman Daniels, when he came in for supper, seemed disturbed to find that Miss Howes had gone. Somehow or other he had gained the impression that she was to leave the next morning.

"Did she--did Miss Howes leave no message for me?" he inquired, with a carelessness which, to Thankful, seemed more a.s.sumed than real.

"No," answered the latter, "no, unless you call it a message about takin' the responsibility of Holliday Kendrick and his schemes off my hands. That is," remembering Emily's desire not to have her name mentioned in the matter, "she didn't leave that. But I guess you can take charge of that mess, if you want to."

Mr. Daniels smiled a superior smile. "I intended doing so," he said, "as a matter of friendship, Mrs. Barnes. You may rest easy. I have taken pains to let the town-folks know that your interests are mine and I think our--er--late--er--friend is learning what our best citizens think of his att.i.tude."

There was truth in this statement. John Kendrick had foreseen the effect upon his popularity which his espousal of his wealthy relative's cause might have and his prophecy concerning "moral leprosy" was in process of fulfillment. Opinion in the village was divided, of course. There were some who, like Darius Holt, announced that they did not blame the young yellow. E. Holliday had money and influence and, as a business man, his attorney would be a fool not to stick by the cash-box. But there were others, and these leading citizens and hitherto good friends, who openly expressed disgust both with the rich man and his lawyer. Several of these citizens called upon Thankful to tell her of their sympathy and of their wish to help her in any way.

"Not that you're liable to need help," said one caller. "This property's yours and even John D. himself couldn't get it from you unless you were willin'. But it's a dirty trick just the same and young Kendrick, that all hands thought was so straight and honest, takin' part in it is the dirtiest thing in it. Well, he's hurt himself more'n he has anybody else."

Captain Obed Bangs was a gloomy man that fall. He had always liked John and the liking had grown to an ardent admiration and affection. He made several attempts to speak with the young man on the subject, but the latter would not discuss it. He was always glad to see the captain and quite willing to talk of anything but Mrs. Barnes' property and of Emily Howes. These topics were taboo and Captain Obed soon ceased to mention them. Also he no longer made daily calls at the ex-barber-shop and, in spite of himself, could not help showing, when he did call, the resentment he felt. John noticed this and there was a growing coldness between the two.

"But," declared the captain, stoutly, when he and Thankful were together, "I still say 'tain't so. I give in that it looks as if 'twas, but I tell you there's a n.i.g.g.e.r in the woodpile somewheres. Some day he'll be dug out and then there's a heap of tattle-tales and character naggers in this town that'll find they've took the wrong channel.

They'll be good and seasick, that's what they'll be."

Mr. E. Holliday Kendrick, if he knew that his own popularity had suffered a shock, did not appear to care. He went on with his plans for enlarging his estate and, when he left East Wellmouth for New York, which he did early in October, told those who asked him that he had left the purchase of the "boarding-house nuisance" in the hands of his attorney. "I shall have that property," he announced, emphatically. "I may not get it for some time, but I shall get it. I make it a point to get what I go after."

Emily, in her letters, those written soon after her arrival in South Middleboro, said nothing concerning her plan, the "secret" which was to cheer Mrs. Barnes' loneliness. Thankful could not help wondering what the secret might be, but in her own letters she asked no questions. And, one day in mid-October, that secret was divulged.

Thankful, busy in the kitchen with Imogene, preparing dinner, heard the sound of wheels and horse's hoofs in the yard. Going to the door, she was surprised to see Captain Obed Bangs climbing from a buggy. The buggy was her own and the horse to which it was attached was her own George Washington. Upon the seat of the buggy was a small boy. Thankful merely glanced at the boy; her interest just then centered upon the fact that the captain was, or apparently had been, using her horse and buggy without her knowledge or consent. She certainly had no objection to his so using it, but it was most unlike him to do so.

"Good mornin', ma'am," he hailed, cheerfully. His eyes were twinkling and he appeared to be in high good humor.

"Why, good mornin', Cap'n," said Thankful. "I--you--you're goin'

somewhere, I should judge."

The captain shook his head. "No," he replied, "I've been. Had an errand up to the Centre. I knew somethin' was comin' on the mornin' train so I drove up to fetch it. Thought you wouldn't mind my usin' your horse and buggy. Imogene knew I was usin' it."

Thankful was surprised. "She did?" she repeated. "That's funny. She didn't say a word to me."

"No, I told her not to. You see, the--the somethin' I was expectin' was for you, so I thought we'd make it a little surprise. Emily--Miss Howes, she sent it."

"Emily--sent somethin' to me?"

"Yup."

"For the land sakes! Well," after a moment, "did it come? Where is it?"

"Oh, yes, it came. It's right there in the buggy. Don't you see it?"