"Yes. Well, then, let's see WHEN you heard it. Every time 'twas when there was a storm; rain and wind and the like of that, eh?"

"Yes. I've slept in that room myself a good many times, but never when there was a gale of wind or rain. That's so; 'twas always in a storm that it came."

"Um-hum. And it always snored. Ho! ho! that IS funny! A ghost with a snore. Must have a cold in its head, I cal'late."

"You wouldn't laugh if you'd heard it last night. And it didn't snore the first time. It said 'Oh, Lord,' then."

"Humph! so you said. Well, that does complicate things, I will give in.

The wind in a water-pipe might snore, but it couldn't say 'Oh, Lord!'

not very plain. You heard that the first night, afore Kenelm and I got there."

"Yes. And there wasn't another person in that house except Emily and me; I know that."

"I wonder if you do know it. . . . Well, I'll have a whack at that room myself and if a spook starts snorin when I'm there I'll--I'll put a clothespin on its nose, after I've thanked it for scarin' old Sol into repentance and decency. It took a spirit to do that. No livin' human could have worked THAT miracle."

"I agree with you. Well, now I know why he acted the way he did whenever Uncle Abner's name was mentioned. I have a feelin'--at least I imagine there may have been somethin' else, somethin' we don't know and never will know, between Solomon and my uncle. There may be some paper, some agreement, hid around somewheres that is legally bindin' on the old sinner. I can't hardly believe just breakin' a promise would make him give anybody fifteen hundred dollars."

"Maybe, but I don't know; he's always been superst.i.tious and a great feller for Spiritu'list camp-meetin's and so on. And he was always regular at prayer-meetin'. Sometimes that sort of a swab, knowin' how mean he actually is, tries to square his meanness with the Almighty by bein' prominent in the church. There may be the kind of paper you say, but I shouldn't wonder if 'twas just scare and a bad conscience."

"Well, I'm grateful to him, anyhow. And, as for John's kindness, I--I don't know what to say. Last night I thought this might be the blackest Christmas ever I had; but now it looks as if it might be one of the brightest. And it's all so strange, so strange it should have come on Christmas. It seems as if the Lord had planned it so."

"Maybe He did. But it ain't so strange when you come to think of it. Your brother came home on Christmas Eve because he thought--or I shouldn't wonder if he did--that you'd be more likely to forgive him and take him in then. Solomon came over when he did on account of his hearin' that Holliday Kendrick was comin'. All days, Christmas or any other, are alike to Sol when there's a dollar to be sighted with a spygla.s.s. And as for John's givin' you the deed today, I presume likely that was a sort of Christmas present; probably he meant to give it to you for that. So the Christmas part ain't so wonderful, after all."

"Yes, it is. It's all wonderful. I ought to be a very, very happy woman.

If John and Emily only come together again I shall be, sure and sartin'.

Of course, though," she added, with emphasis, "I shan't let him give me that land. I'll make some arrangement to pay him for it, a little at a time, if no other way."

The captain opened his mouth to protest, but there was an air of finality in Thankful's tone which caused him to defer the protest until another time.

"Well--well, all right," he said. "That can be talked about later on. But how about yourself? I suppose you'll keep right on with the boardin'-house now?"

"Of course."

"It'll be pretty hard work for you alone, won't it? Especially if Emily and John should take a notion to get married."

"Oh, well! I'm used to bein' alone. I shan't mind--much. Why! here we are right at the foot of our path. I've been talkin' so fast I didn't realize we'd got here already. Do you suppose it's safe to go up to the house now, Obed?"

"I guess so. We can go in the kitchen way and I'll make noise enough to warn all hands that we're comin'. Who's that by the back door; John, ain't it? No, it ain't; it's Kenelm."

Kenelm and Imogene were standing at the kitchen door. When the captain and Mrs. Barnes drew near they saw that they were in danger of interrupting what seemed to be a serious conversation. Neither of the parties to that conversation noticed them until they were close at hand.

Imogene had a slip of paper in her hand.

Captain Obed, whose mind was occupied with but one thought just then, asked a question.

"Imogene," he asked in a loud whisper, "where's Miss Emily?"

Imogene started and turned. Kenelm also started. He looked embarra.s.sed.

"Eh!" cried Imogene. "Oh, it's you, Mrs. Thankful. I was wonderin'

where you was. I've been havin' a little talk with Kenelm here. It's all right, Mrs. Thankful."

"What's all right?" asked Thankful.

"About your brother workin' here in Kenelm's place. He don't mind. You don't, do you, Kenelm?"

Mr. Parker, who had been standing upon one foot and pawing like a restless horse with the other, shifted his position.

"No-o," he drawled. "I--I don't know's I do."

Thankful was disturbed. "I'm sorry you said anything yet awhile, Imogene," she said. "My plans about Jedediah are hardly made yet. I do hate to make you lose your place, Kenelm. If I could see my way clear to keepin' two men I'd do it, but I declare I can't see it."

"That's all right, ma'am," said Kenelm. "I ain't partic'lar."

"He don't mind a bit, Mrs. Thankful," put in Imogene. "Honest, he don't.

He don't have to work unless he's obliged to--not much anyhow. Kenelm's got money, you know."

"I know; at least I've heard he had some money. But 'tain't because he needs the money that I feel bad; it's because of his engagement to you, Imogene. I suppose you're plannin' to be married some time or other and--"

"Oh, that's all right, too," interrupted Imogene eagerly. "You needn't worry about our engagement. She needn't worry about that, need she, Kenelm?"

"No," said Kenelm shortly.

Captain Obed thought it time to repeat his first question.

"Where's Miss Emily?" he asked.

"She's in the livin'-room."

"Is--is anybody with her?"

Imogene nodded. "Um-hum," she said gleefully, "he's there, too."

"Who?" The captain and Thankful spoke in concert.

"Mr. John Kendrick. I let him in and I didn't tell her who it was at all. She didn't know till she went in herself and found him. Then I came right out and shut the door. Oh," with another nod, "I've got some sense, even if I did come from the Orphans' Home."

Captain Obed and Thankful looked at each other.

"Then he did come here," exclaimed Thankful.

"Course he did. I told you he wa'n't quite a fool. Been there some time, has he?"

"Yes. Shall I tell 'em you've come? I'll knock first."

"No, no." Thankful's reply was emphatic. "Where's the rest of the folks?" she asked.

"Georgie and Mr. Cahoon--your brother, I mean--have gone up to the village with the other one, the Cobb man."

"What have they gone to the village for?"