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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cap'n Dan's Daughter, by Joseph C. Lincoln
+(#13 in our series by Joseph C. Lincoln)
+
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+Title: Cap'n Dan's Daughter
+
+Author: Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+Release Date: October, 2004  [EBook #6718]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on January 19, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, CAP'N DAN'S DAUGHTER ***
+
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by Don Lainson.
+
+
+
+
+CAP'N DAN'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+by
+
+
+JOSEPH C. LINCOLN
+
+
+1914
+
+
+
+
+CAP'N DAN'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+The Metropolitan Dry Goods and Variety Store at Trumet Centre was
+open for business.  Sam Bartlett, the boy whose duty it was to take
+down the shutters, sweep out, dust, and wait upon early-bird
+customers, had performed the first three of these tasks and gone
+home for breakfast.  The reason he had not performed the fourth--
+the waiting upon customers--was simple enough; there had been no
+customers to wait upon.  The Metropolitan Dry Goods and Variety
+Store was open and ready for business--but, unfortunately, there
+was no business.
+
+There should have been.  This was August, the season of the year
+when, if ever, Trumet shopkeepers should be beaming across their
+counters at the city visitor, male or female, and telling him or
+her, that "white duck hats are all the go this summer," or "there's
+nothin' better than an oilskin coat for sailin' cruises or
+picnics."  Outing shirts and yachting caps, fancy stationery, post
+cards, and chocolates should be changing hands at a great rate and
+the showcase, containing the nicked blue plates and cracked
+teapots, the battered candlesticks and tarnished pewters, "genuine
+antiques," should be opened at frequent intervals for the
+inspection of bargain-seeking mothers and their daughters.  July
+and August are the Cape Cod harvest months; if the single-entry
+ledgers of Trumet's business men do not show good-sized profits
+during that season they are not likely to do so the rest of the
+year.
+
+Captain Daniel Dott, proprietor of the Metropolitan Store, bending
+over his own ledger spread on the little desk by the window at the
+rear of his establishment, was realizing this fact, realizing it
+with a sinking heart and a sense of hopeless discouragement.  The
+summer was almost over; September was only three days off; in
+another fortnight the hotels would be closed, the boarding houses
+would be closing, and Trumet, deserted by its money spending
+visitors, would be falling asleep, relapsing into its autumn and
+winter hibernation.  And the Dott ledger, instead of showing a
+profit of a thousand or fifteen hundred dollars, as it had the
+first summer after Daniel bought the business, showed but a meager
+three hundred and fifty, over and above expenses.
+
+Through the window the sun was shining brightly.  From the road in
+front of the store--Trumet's "Main Street"--came the rattle of
+wheels and the sound of laughter and conversation in youthful
+voices.  The sounds drew nearer.  Someone shouted "Whoa!"  Daniel
+Dott, a ray of hope illuminating his soul at the prospect of a
+customer, rose hurriedly from his seat by the desk and hastened out
+into the shop.
+
+A big two-horsed vehicle, the "barge" from the Manonquit House, had
+stopped before the door.  It was filled with a gay crowd, youths
+and maidens from the hotel, dressed in spotless flannels and
+"blazers," all talking at once, and evidently carefree and happy.
+Two of the masculine members of the party descended from the
+"barge" and entered the store.  Daniel, smiling his sweetest,
+stepped forward to meet them.
+
+"Good mornin', good mornin'," he said.  "A fine mornin', ain't it?"
+
+The greeting was acknowledged by both of the young fellows, and one
+of them added that it was a fine morning, indeed.
+
+"Don't know as I ever saw a finer," observed Daniel.  "Off on a
+cruise somewhere, I presume likely; hey?"
+
+"Picnic down at the Point."
+
+"Well, you've got picnic weather, all right.  Yes sir, you have!"
+
+Comment concerning the weather is the inevitable preliminary to all
+commercial transactions in Trumet.  Now, preliminaries being over,
+Daniel waited hopefully for what was to follow.  His hopes were
+dashed.
+
+"Is--is Miss Dott about?" inquired one of the callers.
+
+"Miss Dott?  Oh, Gertie!  No, she ain't.  She's gone down street
+somewheres.  Be back pretty soon, I shouldn't wonder."
+
+"Humph!  Well, I'm afraid we can't wait.  We hoped she might go
+with us on the picnic.  We--er--we wanted her very much."
+
+"That so?  I'm sorry, but I'm afraid she couldn't go, even if she
+was here.  You see, it's her last day at home, and--we--her mother
+and I--that is, I don't believe she'd want to leave us to-day."
+
+"No; no, of course not.  Well, tell her we wish she might have
+come, but we understand.  Yes, yes," in answer to the calls from
+the "barge," "we're coming.  Well, good by, Captain Dott."
+
+"Er--good by.  Er--er--don't want anything to take along, do you?
+A nice box of candy, or--or anything?"
+
+"No, I think not.  We stopped at the Emporium just now, and loaded
+up with candy enough to last a week.  Good morning."
+
+"How are you fixed for sun hats and things?  I've got a nice line
+of hats and--well, good by."
+
+"Good by."
+
+The "barge" moved off.  Daniel, standing dejectedly in the door,
+remembered his manners.
+
+"Hope you have a nice time," he shouted.  Then he turned and moved
+disconsolately back to the desk.  He might have expected it.  It
+was thus in nine cases out of ten.  The Emporium, Mr. J. Cohen,
+proprietor, was his undoing in this instance as in so many others.
+The Emporium got the trade and he got the good bys.  Mr. Cohen was
+not an old resident, as he was; Mr. Cohen's daughter was not
+invited to picnics by the summer people; Mrs. Cohen was not head of
+the sewing circle and the Chapter of the Ladies of Honor, and
+prominent socially, as was Mrs. Dott; but Mr. Cohen bought cheap
+and sold cheap, and the Emporium flourished like a green bay tree,
+while the Metropolitan Store was rapidly going to seed.  Daniel,
+looking out through the front window at the blue sea in the
+distance, thought of the past, of the days when, as commander and
+part owner of the three masted schooner Bluebird, he had been free
+and prosperous and happy.  Then he considered the future, which was
+bluer than the sea, and sighed again.  Why had he not been content
+to stick to the profession he understood, to remain on the salt
+water he loved; instead of retiring from the sea to live on dry
+land and squander his small fortune in a business for which he was
+entirely unfitted?
+
+And yet the answer was simple enough.  Mrs. Dott--Mrs. Serena Dott,
+his wife--was the answer, she and her social aspirations.  It was
+Serena who had coaxed him into giving up seafaring; who had said
+that it was a shame for him to waste his life ordering foremast
+hands about when he might be one of the leading citizens in his
+native town.  It was Serena who had persuaded him to invest the
+larger part of his savings in the Metropolitan Store.  Serena, who
+had insisted that Gertrude, their daughter and only child, should
+leave home to attend the fashionable and expensive seminary near
+Boston.  Serena who--but there! it was all Serena; and had been
+ever since they were married.  Captain Daniel, on board his
+schooner, was a man whose word was law.  On shore, he was law
+abiding, and his words were few.
+
+The side door of the store--that leading to the yard separating it
+from the Dott homestead--opened, and Azuba Ginn appeared.  Azuba
+had been the Dott maid of all work for eighteen years, ever since
+Gertrude was a baby.  She was married, but her husband, Laban Ginn,
+was mate on a steam freighter running between New York and almost
+anywhere, and his shore leaves were short and infrequent.  Theirs
+was a curious sort of married life.  "We is kind of independent,
+Labe and me," said Azuba.  "He often says to me--that is, as often
+as we're together, which ain't often--he says to me, he says, 'Live
+where you want to, Zuby,' he says, 'and if you want to move, move!
+When I get ashore I can hunt you up.'  We don't write many letters
+because time each get t'other's, the news is so plaguey old 'tain't
+news at all.  You Dotts seem more like home folks to me than
+anybody else, so I stick to you.  I presume likely I shall till I
+die."
+
+Azuba entered the store in the way in which she did most things,
+with a flurry and a slam.  Her sleeves were rolled up, she wore an
+apron, and one hand dripped suds, demonstrating that it had just
+been taken from the dishpan.  In the other, wiped more or less dry
+on the apron, she held a crumpled envelope.
+
+"Well!" she exclaimed, excitedly.  "If some human bein's don't beat
+the Dutch then _I_ don't know, that's all.  If the way some folks
+go slip-slop, hit or miss, through this world ain't a caution then--
+Tut! tut! tut! don't talk to ME!"
+
+Captain Dan looked up from the ledger.
+
+"What?" he asked absently.
+
+"I say, don't talk to ME!"
+
+"We--ll," with deliberation, "I guess I shan't, unless you stop
+talkin' yourself, and give me a chance.  What's the matter now,
+Zuba?"
+
+"Matter!  Don't talk to ME!  Carelessness is the matter!  Slip-
+sloppiness is the matter!  Here's a man that calls himself a man
+and goes mopin' around pretendin' to BE a man, and what does he
+do?"
+
+"I don't know.  I'd tell you better, maybe, if I knew who he was."
+
+"Who he was!  I'll tell you who he was--is, I mean.  He's Balaam
+Hambleton, that's who he is."
+
+"Humph!  Bale Hamilton, hey?  Then it's easy enough to say what he
+does--nothin', most of the time.  Is that letter for me?"
+
+"Course it's for you!  And it's a week old, what's more.  One week
+ago that letter come in the mail and the postmaster let that--that
+Hambleton thing take it, 'cause he said he was goin' right by here
+and could leave it just as well as not.  And this very mornin' that
+freckle-faced boy of his--that George Washin'ton one--what folks
+give such names to their young ones for _I_ can't see!--he rung the
+front door bell and yanked me right out of the dish water, and he
+says his ma found the letter in Balaam's other pants when she was
+mendin' 'em, and would I please excuse his forgettin' it 'cause he
+had so much on his mind lately.  Mind!  Land of love! if he had a
+thistle top on his mind 'twould smash it flat.  Don't talk to me!"
+
+"I won't," drily; "I WON'T, Zuba, I swear it.  Let's see the
+letter."
+
+He bent forward and took the letter from her hand.  Then, adjusting
+his spectacles, he examined the envelope.  It was of the ordinary
+business size and was stamped with the Boston postmark, and a date
+a week old.  Captain Dan looked at the postmark, studied the
+address, which was in an unfamiliar handwriting, and then turned
+the envelope over.  On the flap was printed "Shepley and Farwell,
+Attorneys, ----- Devonshire Street."  The captain drew a long
+breath; he leaned back in his chair and sat staring at the
+envelope.
+
+Azuba wiped the suds from her wet hand and arm upon her apron.
+Then she wrapped it and the other arm in said apron and coughed.
+The cough was intended to arouse her employer from the trance into
+which he had, apparently, fallen.  But it was without effect.
+Captain Daniel did stop staring at the envelope, but he merely
+transferred his gaze to the ink-spattered blotter and the ledger
+upon it, and stared at them.
+
+"Well?" observed Azuba.
+
+The captain started.  "Hey?" he exclaimed, looking up.  "Did you
+speak?"
+
+"I said 'Well?'.  I suppose that's speakin'?"
+
+"'Well?'  Well what?"
+
+"Oh, nothin'!  I was just wonderin'--"
+
+"Wonderin' what?"
+
+"I was wonderin' if that letter was anything important.  Ain't you
+goin' to open it and see?"
+
+"Hey?  Open it?  Oh, yes, yes.  Well, I shouldn't wonder if I
+opened it some time or other, Zuba.  I gen'rally open my letters.
+It's a funny habit I have."
+
+"Humph!  Well, all right, then.  I didn't know.  Course, 'tain't
+none of my business what's in other folks's letters.  _I_ ain't
+nosey, land knows.  Nobody can accuse me of--"
+
+"Nobody can accuse you of anything, Zuba.  Not even dish washin'
+just now."
+
+Azuba drew herself up.  Outraged dignity and injured pride were
+expressed in every line of her figure.  "Well!" she exclaimed;
+"WELL! if that ain't--if that don't beat all that ever _I_ heard!
+Here I leave my work to do folks favors, to fetch and carry for
+'em, and this is what I get.  Cap'n Dott, I want you to understand
+that I ain't dependent on nobody for a job.  I don't HAVE to slave
+myself to death for nobody.  If you ain't satisfied--"
+
+"There, there, Zuba!  I was only jokin'.  Don't get mad!"
+
+"Mad!  Who's mad, I'd like to know?  It takes more'n that to make
+me mad, I'd have you understand."
+
+"That's good; I'm glad of it.  Well, I'm much obliged to you for
+bringin' the letter."
+
+"You're welcome.  Land sakes!  I don't mind doin' errands, only I
+like to have 'em appreciated.  And I like jokes well as anybody,
+but when you tell me--"
+
+"Hold on! don't get het up again.  Keep cool, Zuba, keep cool!
+Think of that dish water; it's gettin' cooler every minute."
+
+The answer to this was an indignant snort followed by the bang of
+the door.  Azuba had gone.  Captain Daniel looked after her, smiled
+faintly, shook his head, and again turned his attention to the
+letter in his hand.  He did not open it immediately.  Instead he
+sat regarding it with the same haggard, hopeless expression which
+he had worn when he first read the firm's name upon the envelope.
+He dreaded, perhaps, as much as he had ever dreaded anything in his
+life, to open that envelope.
+
+He was sure, perfectly sure, what he should find when he did open
+it.  A letter from the legal representatives of Smith and Denton,
+the Boston hat manufacturers and dealers, stating that, unless the
+latter's account was paid within the next week, suit for the amount
+due would be instituted in the courts.  A law suit! a law suit for
+the collection of a debt against him, Daniel Dott, the man who had
+prided himself upon his honesty!  Think of what it would mean! the
+disgrace of it! the humiliation, not only for himself but for
+Serena, his wife, and Gertrude, his daughter!
+
+He did not blame Smith and Denton; they had been very kind, very
+lenient indeed.  The thirty-day credit originally given him had
+been extended to sixty and ninety.  They had written him many
+times, and each time he had written in reply that as soon as
+collections were better he should be able to pay in full; that he
+had a good deal of money owed him, and as soon as it came in they
+should have it.  But it did not come in.  No wonder, considering
+that it was owed by the loafers and ne'er-do-wells of the town and
+surrounding country, who, because no one else would trust them,
+bestowed their custom upon good-natured, gullible Captain Dan.  The
+more recent letters from the hat dealers had been sharper and less
+kindly.  They had ceased to request; they demanded.  At last they
+had threatened.  And now the threat was to be fulfilled.
+
+The captain laid the envelope down upon the open ledger, rose, and,
+going to the front of the store, carefully closed the door.  Then,
+going to the door communicating with the other half of the store,
+he made sure that no one was in the adjoining room.  He had a vague
+feeling that all the eyes in Trumet were regarding him with
+suspicion, and he wished to shut out their accusing gaze.  He
+wanted to be alone when he read that letter.  He had half a mind to
+take it to the cellar and open it there.
+
+His fingers shook as he tore the end from the envelope.  They shook
+still more as he drew forth the enclosure, a typewritten sheet, and
+held it to the light.  He read it through to the end.  Then, with a
+loud exclamation, almost a shout, he rushed to the side door, flung
+it open and darted across the yard, the letter fluttering from his
+fingers like a flag.  The store was left unguarded, but he forgot
+that.
+
+He stumbled up the steps into the kitchen.  Azuba, a saucer in one
+hand and the dish towel in the other, was, to say the least,
+startled.  As she expressed it afterward, "the everlastin' soul was
+pretty nigh scart out of her."  The saucer flew through the air and
+lit upon the top of the cookstove.
+
+"What--what--what--" stammered Azuba.  "Oh, my land!  WHAT is it?"
+
+"Where's Serena?" demanded Captain Daniel, paying no attention to
+the saucer, except to tread upon the fragments.
+
+"Hey?  Oh, what IS it?  Is the store afire?"
+
+"No, no!  Where's Serena?"
+
+"She--she--what--"
+
+"Where's SERENA, I ask you?"
+
+"In her room, I cal'late.  For mercy sakes, what--"
+
+But the captain did not answer.  Through dining-room, sitting-room,
+and parlor he galloped, and up the front stairs to the bedroom
+occupied by himself and wife.  Mrs. Dott was standing before the
+mirror, red-faced and panting, both arms behind her and her fingers
+busily engaged.  Her husband's breath was almost gone by the time
+he reached the foot of the stairs; consequently his entrance was a
+trifle less noisy and startling than his sky-rocket flight through
+the kitchen.  It is doubtful if his wife would have noticed even if
+it had been.  She caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, and heaved
+a sigh of relief.
+
+"Oh, it's you, is it!" she panted.  "My, I'm glad!  For mercy sakes
+fasten those last three hooks; I'm almost distracted with 'em."
+
+But the hooks remained unfastened for the time.  Captain Dan threw
+himself into a chair and waved the letter.
+
+"Serena," he cried, puffing like a stranded porpoise, "what--WHAT
+do you suppose has happened?  Aunt Laviny is dead."
+
+Serena turned.  "Dead!" she repeated.  "Your Aunt Lavinia Dott?
+The rich one?"
+
+"Yes, sir; she's gone.  Died in Italy a fortnight ago.  Naples, I
+think 'twas--or some such outlandish place; you know she's done
+nothin' but cruise around Europe ever since Uncle Jim died.  The
+letter says she was taken sick on a Friday, and died Sunday, so
+'twas pretty sudden.  I--"
+
+But Mrs. Dott interrupted.  "What else does it say?" she asked
+excitedly.  "What else does that letter say?  Who is if from?"
+
+"It's from her lawyers up to Boston.  What made you think it said
+anything else?"
+
+"Because I'm not blind and I can see your face, Daniel Dott.  What
+else does it say?  Tell me!  Has she--did she--?"
+
+Captain Dan nodded solemnly.  "She didn't forget us," he said.
+"She didn't forget us, Serena.  The letter says her will gives us
+that solid silver teapot and sugar-bowl that was presented to Uncle
+Jim by the Ship Chandlers' Society, when he was president of it.
+She willed that to us.  She knew I always admired that tea-pot
+and--"
+
+His wife interrupted once more.
+
+"Tea-pot!" she repeated strongly.  "Tea-pot!  What are you talking
+about?  Do you mean to say that all she left us was a TEA-POT?  If
+you do I--"
+
+"No, no, Serena.  Hush!  She's left us three thousand dollars
+besides.  Think of it!  Three thousand dollars--just now!"
+
+His voice shook as he said it.  He spoke as if three thousand
+dollars was an unheard-of sum, a fortune.  Mrs. Dott had no such
+illusion.  She sat down upon the edge of the bed.
+
+"Three thousand dollars!" she exclaimed.  "Is that all?  Three
+thousand dollars!"
+
+"All!  My soul, Serena!  Why, ONE thousand dollars just now is
+like--"
+
+"Hush!  Do be still!  Three thousand dollars!  And she worth a
+hundred thousand, if she was worth a cent.  A lone woman, without a
+chick or a child or a relation except you, and that precious young
+swell of a cousin of hers she thought so much of.  I suppose he
+gets the rest of it.  Oh, how can anybody be so stingy!"
+
+"Sh-sh, sh-h, Serena.  Don't speak so of the dead.  Why, we ought
+to be mournin' for her, really, instead of rejoicing over what she
+left us.  It ain't right to talk so.  I'm ashamed of myself--or I
+ought to be.  But, you see, I thought sure the letter was from
+those hat folks's lawyers, sayin' they'd started suit.  When I
+found it wasn't, I was so glad I forgot everything else.  Ah hum!--
+poor Aunt Laviny!"
+
+He sighed.  His wife shook her head.
+
+"Daniel," she said, "I--I declare I try not to lose patience with
+you, but it's awful hard work.  Mourning!  Mourn for her!  What did
+she ever do to make you sorry she was gone?  Did she ever come near
+us when she was alive?  No, indeed, she didn't.  Did she ever offer
+to give you, or even lend you, a cent?  I guess not.  And she knew
+you needed it, for I wrote her."
+
+"You DID?  Serena!"
+
+"Yes, I did.  Why shouldn't I?  I wrote her six months ago, telling
+her how bad your business was, and that Gertie was at school, and
+we were trying to give her a good education, and how much money it
+took and--oh, everything.  When your Uncle Jim's business was bad,
+in the hard times back in '73, who was it that helped him out and
+saved him from bankruptcy?  Why, his brother--your own father.  And
+he never got a cent of it back.  I reminded her of that, too."
+
+Daniel sprang out of his chair.
+
+"You did!" he cried again.  "Serena, how could you?  You knew how
+Father felt about that money.  You knew how I felt.  And yet, you
+did that!"
+
+"I did.  Somebody in this family must be practical and worldly-
+minded, and I seem to be the one.  YOU wouldn't ask her for a cent.
+You wouldn't ask anybody for money, even if they owed it a thousand
+years.  You sell everybody anything they want from the store; and
+trust them for it.  You know you do.  You sold that good-for-
+nothing Lem Brackett a whole suit of clothes only last week, and he
+owes you a big bill and has owed it for a year."
+
+Her husband looked troubled.  "Well," he answered, slowly, "I
+suppose likely I didn't do right there.  But those Bracketts are
+poor, and there's a big family of 'em, and the fall's comin' on,
+and--and all.  So--"
+
+"So you thought it was your duty to help support them, I suppose.
+Oh, Daniel, Daniel, I don't know what to do with you sometimes."
+
+Captain Dan looked very grave.
+
+"I guess you're right, Serena," he admitted.  "I ain't much good,
+I'm afraid."
+
+Mrs. Dott's expression changed.  She rose, walked over, and kissed
+him.  "You're too good, that's the main trouble with you," she
+said.  "Well, I won't scold any more.  I'm glad we've got the three
+thousand anyway--and the tea-pot."
+
+"It's a lovely tea-pot, all engravin' and everything.  And the
+sugar-bowl's almost as pretty.  You'll like 'em, Serena."
+
+"Yes, I'll love 'em, I don't doubt.  You and I can look at them and
+think of that cousin of Aunt Lavinia's spending the rest of her
+fortune.  No wonder she didn't leave him the tea-pot; precious
+little tea he drinks, if stories we hear are true.  Well, there's
+one good thing about it--Gertie can keep on with her college.  This
+is her last year."
+
+"Yes; I thought of that.  I thought of a million things when I was
+racin' across the yard with this letter.  Say, Serena, you've never
+told Gertie anything about how trade was or how hard-up we've
+been?"
+
+"Of course not."
+
+"No, I knew you wouldn't.  She's such a conscientious girl; if she
+thought we couldn't afford it she wouldn't think of keepin' on with
+that college, and I've set my heart on her havin' the best start in
+life we can give her."
+
+"I know.  Ah hum!  I wish she could have the start some people's
+daughters have.  Mrs. Black was with me at the lodge room
+yesterday--we are decorating for the men's evening to-morrow night,
+you know--and Mrs. Black has been helping me; she's awfully kind
+that way.  You'd think she belonged here in Trumet, instead of
+being rich and living in Scarford and being way up in society
+there.  She and her husband are just like common folks."
+
+"Humph!  Barney Black IS common folks.  He was born right here in
+Trumet and his family was common as wharf rats.  HE needn't put on
+airs with me."
+
+"He doesn't.  And yet, if he was like some people, he would.  So
+successful in his big factory, and his wife way up in the best
+circles of Scarford; she's head of the Ladies of Honor there as I
+am here, and means to get a national office in the order; she told
+me so.  But there! that reminds me that I was going to meet her at
+the lodge room at ten, and it's half-past nine now.  Do help me
+with these hooks.  If I wasn't so fleshy I could do them myself,
+but I almost died hooking the others."
+
+"Why didn't you call Zuba?  She'd have hooked 'em for you."
+
+"Azuba!  Heavens and earth!  She's worse than nobody; her fingers
+are all thumbs.  Besides, she would talk me deaf, dumb and blind.
+She doesn't know her place at all; thinks she is one of the family,
+I suppose."
+
+"Well, she is, pretty nigh.  Been here long enough."
+
+"I don't care.  She isn't one of the family; she's a servant, or
+ought to be.  Oh dear! when I hear Annette Black telling about her
+four servants and all the rest it makes me so jealous, sometimes."
+
+"Don't make ME jealous.  I'd rather have you and Gertie and this
+place than all Barney Black owns--and that means his wife, too."
+
+"Daniel, I keep telling you not to call Mr. Black 'Barney.'  He is
+B. Phelps Black now.  Mrs. Black always calls him 'Phelps.'  So
+does everybody in Scarford, so she says."
+
+"Want to know!  He was Barney Black when he lived here regular.
+Havin' a summer cottage here and a real house in Scarford must make
+a lot of difference.  By the way, speakin' of Scarford, that's
+where Aunt Laviny used to live afore she went abroad.  She owned a
+big house there."
+
+"Why, so she did!  I wonder what will become of it.  I suppose that
+cousin will get it, along with the rest.  Oh dear! suppose--just
+suppose there wasn't any cousin.  Suppose you and I and Gertie had
+that house and the money.  Wouldn't it be splendid?  WE could be in
+society then."
+
+"Humph!  I'd look pretty in society, wouldn't I?"
+
+"Of course you would.  You'd look as pretty as Barney--B. Phelps
+Black, wouldn't you?  And I--Oh, HOW I should love it!  Trumet is
+so out of date.  A real intelligent, ambitious woman has no chance
+in Trumet."
+
+The captain shook his head.  He recognized the last sentence as a
+quotation from the works of Mrs. Annette Black, self-confessed
+leader in society in the flourishing manufacturing city of
+Scarford, and summer resident and condescending patroness of
+Trumet.
+
+"Well," he observed; "we've got more chance, even in Trumet, than
+we've had for the last year, thanks to Aunt Laviny's three
+thousand.  It gives us a breathin' spell, anyhow.  If only trade in
+the store would pick up, I--Hey!  Good heavens to Betsy!  I forgot
+the store altogether.  Sam hadn't got back from breakfast and I
+left the store all alone.  I must be crazy!"
+
+He bolted from the room and down the stairs, the legacy forgotten
+for the moment, and in his mind pictures of rifled showcases and
+youthful Trumet regaling itself with chocolates at his expense.
+Azuba shrieked another question as her employer once more rushed
+through the kitchen, but again her question was unanswered.  She
+hurried to the window and watched him running across the yard.
+
+"Well!" she exclaimed, in alarmed soliloquy.  "WELL, the next time
+I fetch that man a letter I'll fetch the doctor along with it.  Has
+the world turned upside down, or what is the matter?"
+
+She might have made a worse guess.  The Dott world was turning
+upside down; this was the beginning of the revolution.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Captain Dan's fears concerning the safety of his showcases were
+groundless.  Even as he sprang up the steps to the side door of his
+place of business, he heard familiar voices in the store.  He
+recognized the voices, and, halting momentarily to wipe his
+forehead with his handkerchief and to regain some portion of his
+composure and his breath, he walked in.
+
+Gertrude, his daughter, was seated in his chair by the desk, and
+John Doane was leaning upon the desk, talking with her.  In the
+front of the store, Sam Bartlett, the boy, who had evidently
+returned from breakfast, was doing nothing in particular, and doing
+it with his usual air of enjoyment.  It was only when required to
+work that Sam was unhappy.
+
+Gertrude looked up as her father entered; prior to that she had
+been looking at the blotter on the desk.  John Doane, who had been
+looking at Gertrude, also changed the direction of his gaze.
+Captain Dan struggled with the breath and the composure.
+
+"Why, Dad!" exclaimed Gertrude.  "What is it?"
+
+"What's the matter, Cap'n Dott?" asked Mr. Doane.
+
+Daniel did his best to appear calm; it was a poor best.  At fifty-
+two one cannot run impromptu hurdle races against time, and show no
+effects.
+
+"Hey?" he panted.  "Matter?  Nothin's the matter.  I left the store
+alone for a minute and I was in a kind of hurry to get back to it,
+that's all."
+
+The explanation was not entirely satisfactory.  Gertrude looked
+more puzzled than ever.
+
+"A minute," she repeated.  "Left it a minute!  Why, John and I have
+been here fifteen minutes, and Sam was here when we came."
+
+The captain looked at his watch.  "Well, maybe 'twas a little
+more'n a minute," he admitted.
+
+Master Bartlett sauntered up to take part in the conversation.
+
+"I got here twenty minutes ago," he observed, grinning, "and you
+wasn't here then, Cap'n Dan'l.  I was wonderin' what had become of
+ye."
+
+Daniel seized the opportunity to change the subject.
+
+"Anybody been in since you came?" he asked, addressing Sam.
+
+"No, nobody special.  Abel Calvin was in to see if you wanted to
+buy some beach plums for puttin' up.  He said he had about a bushel
+of first-rate ones, just picked."
+
+"Beach plums!  What in time would I want of beach plums?  I don't
+put up preserves, do I?  Why didn't he go to the house?"
+
+"I asked him that, myself, and he said 'twa'n't no use."
+
+"No use!  What did he mean by that?"
+
+"Well, he said--he said--"  Sam seemed suddenly to realize that he
+was getting into deep water; "he said--he said somethin' or other;
+I guess I've forgot what 'twas."
+
+"I guess you ain't.  WHAT did he say?"
+
+"Well, he said--he said Serena--Mrs. Dott, I mean--was probably
+gallivantin' down to the lodge room by this time.  Said 'twa'n't no
+use tryin' to get her to attend to common things or common folks
+nowadays; she was too busy tryin' to keep up with Annette Black."
+
+This literal quotation from the frank Mr. Calvin caused a
+sensation.  Captain Dan struggled to find words.  His daughter laid
+a hand on his sleeve.
+
+"Never mind, Dad," she said, soothingly.  "You know what Abel
+Calvin is; you don't mind what he says.  Sam, you shouldn't repeat
+such nonsense.  Run away now and attend to your work.  I'm sure
+there's enough for you to do."
+
+"You--you go and clean up the cellar," ordered the irate captain.
+Sam departed cellarward, muttering that it wasn't his fault; HE
+hadn't said nothin'.  Gertrude spoke again.
+
+"Don't mind that, Dad," she urged.  "Why, how warm you are, and how
+excited you look.  What is it?  You haven't spoken a word to John."
+
+Her father shook his head.  "Mornin', John," he said.  "I beg your
+pardon.  I ain't responsible to-day, I shouldn't wonder.  I--I've
+had some news that's drivin' everything else out of my mind."
+
+"News?  Why, Dad! what do you mean?  Bad news?"
+
+"No, no!  Good as ever was, and. . . .  Humph! no, I don't mean
+that.  It is bad news, of course.  Your Great-aunt Laviny's dead,
+Gertie."
+
+He told of the lawyer's letter, omitting for the present the news
+of the legacy.  Gertrude was interested, but not greatly shocked or
+grieved.  She had met her great-aunt but once during her lifetime,
+and her memory of the deceased was of a stately female, whose
+earrings and brooches and rings sparkled as if she was on fire in
+several places; who sat bolt upright at the further end of a hotel
+room in Boston, and ordered Captain Dan not to bring "that child"
+any nearer until its hands were washed.  As she had been the child
+and had distinctly disagreeable recollections of the said hands
+having been washed three times before admittance to the presence,
+the memory was not too pleasant.  She said she was sorry to hear
+that Aunt Lavinia was no more, and asked when it happened.  Her
+father told what he knew of the circumstances attending the
+bereavement, which was not much.
+
+"She's gone, anyhow," he said.  "It's liable to happen to any of
+us, bein' cut off that way.  We ought to be prepared, I suppose."
+
+"I suppose so.  But, Daddy, Aunt Lavinia wasn't cut off exactly,
+was she?  She was your aunt and she must have been quite old."
+
+"Hey?  Why, let's see.  She was your grandpa's brother's wife, and
+he--Uncle Jim, I mean--was about four years older than Father.  She
+was three years younger'n he was when he married her.  Let's see
+again.  Father--that's your grandpa, Gertie--was sixty-five when he
+died and . . . Humph!  No, Aunt Laviny was eighty-eight, or
+thereabouts.  She wasn't exactly cut off, was she, come to think of
+it?"
+
+Gertrude's brown eyes twinkled.  "Not exactly--no," she said,
+gravely.  "Well, Daddy, I'm sure I am sorry she has gone, but,
+considering that she has never deigned to visit us or have us visit
+her, or even to write you a letter for the past two years, I don't
+think we should be expected to mourn greatly.  And," glancing at
+him, "I don't understand just what you meant by saying first that
+the news was good, and then that it was bad.  There is something
+else, isn't there?"
+
+Her father smiled, in an embarrassed way.  "Well, ye--es," he
+admitted, "there is somethin' else, but--but I don't know as I
+didn't do wrong to feel so good over it.  I--I guess I'll tell you
+by and by, if you don't mind.  Maybe then I won't feel--act, I
+mean--so tickled.  It don't seem right that I should be.  Let me
+get sort of used to it first.  I'll tell you pretty soon."
+
+His daughter laughed, softly.  "I know you will, Dad," she said.
+"You couldn't keep a secret in that dear old head of yours if you
+tried.  Not from me, anyway; could you, dear?"
+
+"I guess not," regarding her fondly.  "Anyhow, I shan't try to keep
+this one.  Well, this time to-morrow you'll be back at college
+again, in among all those Greek and Latin folks.  Wonder she'll
+condescend to come and talk plain United States to us Cape Codders,
+ain't it, John."
+
+John Doane admitted that it was a wonder.  He seemed to regard Miss
+Dott as a very wonderful young person altogether.  Gertrude glanced
+up at him, then at her father, and then at the blotter on the desk.
+She absently played with the pages of the ledger.
+
+"Dad," she said, suddenly, "you are not the only one who has a
+secret."
+
+The captain turned and looked at her.  Her head was bent over the
+ledger and he could see but the top of a very becoming hat, a stray
+lock of wavy brown hair, and the curve of a very pretty cheek.  The
+cheek--what he could see of it--was crimson.  He looked up at Mr.
+Doane.  That young man's face was crimson also.
+
+"Oh!" said Captain Daniel; and added, "I want to know!"
+
+"Yes, you're not the only one.  We--I--there is another secret.
+Daddy, dear, John wants to talk with you."
+
+The captain looked at Mr. Doane, then at the hat and the face
+beneath it.
+
+"Oh!" he said, again.
+
+"Yes.  I--I--"  She rose and, putting her arms about her father's
+neck, kissed him.  "I will be back before long, dear," she
+whispered, and hurried out.  Mr. Doane cleared his throat.  Captain
+Dan waited.
+
+"Well, sir," began the young man, and stopped.  The captain
+continued to wait.
+
+"Well, sir," began Mr. Doane, again, "I--I--"  For one who, as
+Gertrude had declared, wished to talk, he seemed to be finding the
+operation difficult.  "I--Well, sir, the fact is, I have something
+to say to you."
+
+Captain Dan, who was looking very grave, observed that he "wanted
+to know."  John Doane cleared his throat once more, and took a
+fresh start.
+
+"Yes, sir," he said, "I have something to say to you--er--something
+that--that may surprise you."
+
+A faint smile disturbed the gravity of the captain's face.
+
+"May surprise me, hey?" he repeated.  "Is that so?"
+
+"Yes.  You see, I--Gertie and I--have--are--"
+
+Daniel looked up.
+
+"Hard navigatin', ain't it, John?" he inquired, whimsically.
+"Maybe I could help you over the shoals.  You and Gertie think
+you'd like to get married sometime or other, I presume likely.
+Is that what you're tryin' to tell me?"
+
+There was no doubt of it.  The young man's face expressed several
+emotions, relief that the great secret was known, and surprise that
+anyone should have guessed it.
+
+"Why, yes, sir," he admitted, "that is it.  Gertie and I have known
+each other for years, ever since we were children, in fact; and,
+you see--you see--" he paused once more, began again, and then
+broke out impatiently with, "I'm making an awful mess of this.
+I don't know why."
+
+Captain Dan's smile broadened.
+
+"I made just as bad a one myself, once on a time," he observed.
+"Just as bad, or worse--and _I_  didn't know why either.  There,
+John, you sit down.  Come to anchor alongside here, and let's talk
+this thing over in comfort."
+
+Mr. Doane "came to anchor" on an empty packing case beside the
+desk.  As he was tall and big, and the box was low and small, the
+"comfort" was doubtful.  However, neither of the pair noticed this
+at the time.
+
+"So you think you want Gertie, do you, John?" said the captain.
+
+"I know it," was the emphatic answer.
+
+"So.  And she thinks she wants you?"
+
+"She says so."
+
+"Humph!" with a sidelong glance.  "Think she means it?"
+
+"I'm trying to believe she does."
+
+The tone in which this was uttered caused Captain Dan to chuckle.
+"'Tis strange, I'll give in," he remarked, drily.  "No accountin'
+for taste, is there--Well," his gravity returning, "I suppose
+likely you realize that her mother and I think consider'ble of
+her."
+
+"I realize that thoroughly."
+
+"You don't realize it as much as you will some day, perhaps.  Yes,
+we think Gertie's about right.  She's a smart girl and, what's
+more, she's a good girl, and she's all the child we've got.  Of
+course we've realized that she was growin' up and that--Oh, good
+mornin', Alphy.  Fine weather, ain't it.  Lookin' for somethin',
+was you?"
+
+He hurried out into the store to sell Mrs. Theophilus Berry, known
+locally as "Alphy Ann," a box of writing paper and a penholder.
+The transaction completed, he returned to his chair.  John Doane,
+who had recovered, in a measure, from his embarrassment, was ready
+for him.
+
+"Cap'n Dott," said the young man, "I know how you feel, I think.  I
+know what Gertie is to you and how anxious you and her mother must
+be concerning her future.  If I did not feel certain--practically
+certain--that I could give her a good home and all that goes with
+it, I should not have presumed to speak to her, or to you,
+concerning marriage.  My business prospects are good, or I think
+they are.  I--"
+
+The captain held up his hand.  "Er--er--John," he said, uneasily,
+"maybe you'd better tell about that part of it when Serena's
+around.  She's the practical one of us two, I guess, far's money's
+concerned, anyway.  I used to think I was pretty practical when I
+was on salt water, but--but lately I ain't so sure.  I'm afraid--"
+
+He stopped, began to speak again, and then relapsed into silence,
+seeming to forget his companion altogether.  The latter reminded
+him by saying:
+
+"I shall be glad to tell Mrs. Dott everything, of course.  I have
+been with the firm now employing me for eight years, ever since I
+left high school.  They seem to like me.  I have been steadily
+advanced, my salary is a fairly good one, and in another year I
+have the promise of a partnership.  After that my progress will
+depend upon myself."
+
+He went on, in a manly, straightforward manner, to speak of his
+hopes and ambitions.  Daniel listened, but the most of what he
+heard was incomprehensible.  Increased output and decreased
+manufacturing costs were Greek to him.  When the young man paused,
+he brought the conversation back to what, in his mind, was the
+essential.
+
+"And you're certain sure that you two care enough for each other?"
+he asked.  "Not just care, but care enough?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, then, I guess I ain't got much to say.  There's one thing,
+though.  Gertie's young.  She ain't finished her schoolin' yet,
+and--"
+
+"And you think she should.  So do I.  She wishes to do it, herself,
+and I should be the last to prevent her, even if I could.  We have
+agreed that she shall have the final year at college and then come
+back to you.  After that--well, after that, the time of our
+marriage can be settled.  Gertie and I are willing to wait; we
+expect to.  In a few years I shall have a little more money, I
+hope, and be more sure of success in life.  I may never be a rich
+man, but Gertie's tastes and mine are modest.  She does not care
+for society--"
+
+The captain interrupted.  "That's so," he said, hastily, "she
+don't.  She don't care for 'em at all.  Her mother has the greatest
+work to get her to go to lodge meetin's.  No, she don't care for
+societies any more'n I do.  Well, John, I--I--it'll come pretty
+hard to give her up to anybody.  Wait till you have a daughter of
+your own and you'll know how hard.  But, if I've got to give her
+up, I'd rather give her to you than anybody I know.  You're a
+Trumet boy and I've known you all my life, and so's Gertie, for
+that matter.  All I can say is, God bless you and--and take good
+care of my girl, that's all."
+
+He extended his hand and John seized it.  Then the captain coughed,
+blew his nose with vigor, and, reaching into his pocket, produced
+two battered cigars.
+
+"Smoke up, John," he said.
+
+At dinner, a meal at which Mrs. Dott, still busy with the lodge
+room decorations, was not present, Gertrude and her father talked
+it over.
+
+"It comes kind of hard, Gertie," he admitted, "but, Lord love you,
+there's a heap of hard things in this world.  John's a good fellow
+and--and, well, we ain't goin' to lose you just yet, anyhow."
+
+Gertrude rose and, coming around the table, put her arms about his
+neck.
+
+"Indeed you're not, dear," she said.  "If I supposed my marriage
+meant giving you up, I shouldn't think of it."
+
+"Want to know!  Wouldn't think of John, either, I suppose, hey?"
+
+"Well, I--I might think of him a little, just a tiny little bit."
+
+"I shouldn't wonder.  That's all right.  You can't get rid of me so
+easy.  After you two are all settled in your fine new house, I'll
+be comin' around to disgrace you, puttin' my boots on the furniture
+and--"
+
+"Dad!"
+
+"Won't I?  Well, maybe I won't.  I cal'late by that time I'll be
+broke to harness.  Your mother's gettin' in with the swells so,
+lately, Barney Black's wife and the rest, that I'll have to mind my
+manners.  There! let's go into the sittin'-room a few minutes and
+give Zuba a chance to clear off.  Sam's tendin' store and his
+dinner can wait a spell; judgin' by the time he took for breakfast
+he hadn't ought to be hungry for the next week."
+
+In the sitting-room they spoke of many things, of Gertrude's
+departure for school--she was leaving on the three o'clock train--
+of the engagement, of course, and of the three thousand dollar
+windfall from Aunt Lavinia.  The captain had told that bit of news
+when they sat down to dinner.
+
+"What is that cousin's name?" asked Gertrude.  "The one who
+inherits all of your aunt's fortune?"
+
+"Let's see.  His name?  I ought to know it well's I know my own.
+It's--it's Starvation, or somethin' like that.  Somethin' about
+bein' hungry, anyhow.  Hungerford, Percy Hungerford, that's it!"
+
+Gertrude looked surprised.
+
+"Not Percy Hungerford--of Scarford!" she cried.  "What sort of a
+man is he?  What does he look like?"
+
+"Looked like a picked chicken, last time I saw him.  Kind of a
+spindlin' little critter, with sandy complexion and hair, but
+dressed--my soul! there wasn't any picked chicken look about his
+clothes."
+
+Gertrude nodded.  "I believe it is the same one," she said.  "Yes,
+I am sure of it.  He came out to the college at one of our
+commencements.  One of the girls invited him.  He danced with me--
+once.  They said he was very wealthy."
+
+"Humph!  All the wealth he had come from Aunt Laviny, far's I ever
+heard.  He was her pet and the only thing she ever spent money on,
+except herself.  And you met him!  Well, this is a small world.
+Like him, did you?"
+
+"No," said Gertrude, and changed the subject.
+
+Before her father departed for the store and she went to her room
+to finish packing, she sat upon the arm of his chair and, bending
+down, said:
+
+"Daddy, if you hadn't got this money, this three thousand dollars,
+do you know what I had very nearly made up my mind to do?"
+
+"No, I'm sure I don't."
+
+"I had almost decided not to stay at college, but to come back here
+and live with you and mother."
+
+"For the land sakes!  Why?"
+
+"Because I was sure you needed me.  You never told me, of course--
+being you, you wouldn't--but I was sure that you were troubled
+about--about things."
+
+"Me?  Troubled?  What put that into your head?  I'm the most gay,
+happy-go-lucky fellow in the world.  I don't get troubled enough.
+Ask your mother if that ain't so."
+
+"I shall not ask anybody but you.  Tell me truly:  Weren't you
+troubled; about the business, and the store?  Truly, now."
+
+Captain Dan rubbed his chin.  He wished very much to deny the
+allegation, or at least to dodge the truth.  But he was a poor
+prevaricator at any time, and his daughter was looking him straight
+in the eye.
+
+"Well," he faltered, "I--I--How in time did you guess that?  I--
+Humph! why, yes, I was a little mite upset.  You see, trade ain't
+been first rate this summer, and collections were awful slow.  I
+hate to drive folks, especially when I know they're hard up.  I was
+a little worried, but it's all right now.  Aunt Laviny's three
+thousand fixed that all right.  It'll carry me along like a full
+sail breeze.  You go back to school, like a sensible girl, and
+don't you worry a mite.  It's all right now, Gertie."
+
+"Honest?"
+
+"Honest to Betsy!" with an emphatic nod.
+
+He meant it; he really thought it was all right.  The fact that he
+owed a thousand already and that the remaining two would almost
+certainly be swept into the capacious maw of the Metropolitan Store
+did not occur to him then.  Daniel Dott was a failure as a business
+man but as an optimist he was a huge success.
+
+"Then you're sure you can afford to have me go back for my last
+year?"
+
+"Course I am.  I couldn't afford to do anything else."
+
+His absolute certainty stifled his daughter's doubts for the time,
+but she asked another question.
+
+"And there's nothing that troubles you at all?"
+
+"No-o."  The captain's answer was not quite as emphatic this time.
+Gertrude smiled, and patted his shoulder.
+
+"Daddy, dear," she said, "you're as transparent as a window pane,
+aren't you.  Well, don't worry any more.  That will be all right
+pretty soon, too.  Mrs. Black doesn't stay in Trumet all the year."
+
+Her father gasped.  That this child of his, whom he had always
+regarded as a child, should dive into the recesses of his soul and
+drag to light its most secret misgivings was amazing.
+
+"What on earth?" he demanded.
+
+"You know what I mean.  I'm not blind.  I can see.  Mother is just
+a little carried away.  She has heard so much about big houses and
+servants and society and woman's opportunity, and all the rest of
+it, that she has been swept off her feet.  But it won't last, I'm
+sure.  She isn't really discontented; she only thinks she is."
+
+Daniel sighed.  "I know," he said.  "Fact is, I ain't up-to-date
+enough, myself, that's what's the matter.  She's a mighty able,
+ambitious woman, your mother is, Gertie, and I don't wonder she
+gets to thinkin', sometimes, that Trumet is a kind of one-horse
+town.  I like it; I AM one-horse, I suppose.  But she ain't,
+and she ain't satisfied to be satisfied, like me.  It's a good
+thing she ain't, I guess.  Somebody's got to live up to the
+responsibilities of life, and--"
+
+Gertrude laughed.  "She said that, didn't she," she interrupted.
+
+"Why, yes, she did.  She says it every once in a while.  How did
+you know?"
+
+"I guessed.  And I imagine Mrs. Phelps Black said it first.  But
+there, Dad, be patient and. . . .  Sh-sh! here's Mother now."
+
+It was Serena, sure enough, breathless from hurrying, her hat a bit
+on one side, one glove off and the other on, but full of energy and
+impatience.
+
+"I suppose you've had dinner," she exclaimed.  "Well, all right, I
+don't care.  I couldn't help being late, there was so much to do at
+the lodge rooms and nobody to do it right, except me.  If Mrs.
+Black hadn't helped and superintended and--and everything, I don't
+know where we should have been.  And those visiting delegates from
+Boston coming!  I must get a bite and hurry back.  Where's Azuba?
+Azuba!"
+
+She was rushing in the direction of the kitchen, but her husband
+detained her.
+
+"Hold on, Serena," he shouted.  "Goin' back!  What do you mean?
+You ain't goin' back to that lodge this afternoon, are you?  Why,
+Gertie's goin' on the up-train!"
+
+"I know, but I must go back, Daniel.  Goodness knows what would
+happen if I didn't.  If you had seen some of the decorations those
+other women wanted to put up, you would think it was necessary for
+someone with respectable taste to be there.  Why, Sophronia Smalley
+actually would have draped the presiding officer's desk--MY desk--
+with a blue flag with a white whale on it, if I hadn't been there
+to stop her."
+
+"Well, I--Why, Serena, you know Sophrony thinks a sight of that
+flag.  Simeon Smalley, her father, was in the whalin' trade for
+years, and that flag was his private signal.  She always has that
+flag up somewhere."
+
+"Well, she shan't have it on my desk.  Annette--Mrs. Black, I mean--
+said it was ridiculous.  If such a thing happened in Scarford the
+audience would have hysterics.  Would you want your wife to make a
+spectacle of herself, before those Boston delegates, standing
+behind a white whale, and a dirty white at that!  Gertie, I shall
+be at the depot to say good by, but I must be at that lodge room
+first.  I MUST.  You understand, don't you?"
+
+Gertrude said she understood perfectly and her mother hurried to
+the kitchen, where she ate lukewarm fried fish and apple pie, while
+Azuba washed the dishes and prophesied darkly concerning
+"dyspepsy."  Gertrude went to her room to put the last few things
+in her trunks, and Captain Dan returned to the store, where he
+found the Bartlett boy pacifying a gnawing appetite with chocolate
+creams abstracted from stock.
+
+At a quarter to three the captain was at the railway station, where
+he was joined by John Doane, who, his vacation over, was returning
+to Boston.  After a five-minute wait Serena and Gertrude appeared.
+The latter had called at the lodge room for her mother and, during
+the walk to the station, had broken the news of her engagement.
+
+Serena was not surprised, of course; she, like everyone else, had
+expected it, and she liked John.  But she was a good deal agitated
+and even the portentous business of the lodge meeting was driven
+from her mind.  She and Mr. Doane shook hands, but the young man
+felt very much like a thief, and a particularly mean sort of thief,
+as young men are likely to feel under such circumstances.
+Farewells were harder to say than usual, although Gertrude tried
+her best to seem cheerful, and the captain swallowed the lump in
+his throat and smiled and joked in a ghastly fashion all through
+the ceremony.  Just before the train started, his daughter led him
+to one side and whispered:
+
+"Now, Daddy, remember--you are not to worry.  And, if you need me
+at any time, you will tell me so, and I shall surely come.  You'll
+promise, won't you?  And you will write at least once a week?"
+
+The captain made both promises.  They kissed, Serena and Gertrude
+exchanged hugs, and John Doane solemnly shook hands once more.
+Then the train moved away from the station.
+
+Daniel and Serena walked homeward, Mrs. Dott wiping her eyes with a
+damp handkerchief, and her husband very grave and silent.  As they
+passed the lodge building the lady said:
+
+"I ought to go right back in there again.  I ought to, but I just
+can't, not now.  I--I want to be with you, Daniel, a time like
+this."
+
+"Goodness knows I want you, Serena; but--but for mercy sakes don't
+call it a 'time like this.'  Sounds as if we'd just come from the
+cemetery instead of the depot.  We ain't been to a funeral; we're
+only lookin' for'ard to a weddin'."
+
+In spite of this philosophical declaration the remainder of that
+afternoon was rather funereal for Captain Dan.  He moped about the
+store, waiting half-heartedly upon the few customers who happened
+in, and the ring of the supper bell was welcome, as it promised
+some company other than his thoughts.
+
+But the promise was not fulfilled.  He ate his supper alone.  Mrs.
+Dott had gone back to the lodge room, so Azuba said.
+
+"I don't think she was intendin' to," remarked the latter,
+confidentially.  "She said she guessed she'd 'lay down a spell';
+said she was 'kind of tired.'  But afore she got upstairs scarcely,
+along comes that Black automobile with that Irish 'shover man'--
+that's what they call 'em, ain't it?--drivin' it and her in the
+back seat, and he gets out and comes and rings the front door bell,
+and when I answer it--had my hands all plastered up with dough, I
+did, for I was makin' pie, and it took me the longest time to get
+'em clean--when I answered it he said that she said she wanted to
+see her and--"
+
+"Here! hold on, Zuba!" interrupted her bewildered employer.  "'Vast
+heavin' a second, will you?  You ought to run that yarn of yours
+through a sieve and strain some of the 'hes' and 'shes' out of it.
+'He said that she said she wanted to see her.'  Who wanted to see
+what?"
+
+"Why, Barney Black's wife.  She wanted to see Serena.  So in she
+came, all rigged up in her best clothes and--"
+
+"How do you know they were her best ones?"
+
+"Hey?  Well, they would have been MY best ones, if _I_ owned 'em, I
+tell you that.  I never see such clothes as that woman has!  All
+trimmin' and flounces and didos, and--"
+
+"Hi! steady there, Zuba.  Keep your eye on the compass.  You're
+gettin' off the course again.  Annette--Mrs. Black, I mean--came to
+see Mrs. Dott; that's plain sailin' so far.  What happened after
+that?"
+
+"Why, they went off together in the automobile and Serena said to
+tell you she had to go to lodge, and she'd be back when she could
+and not to wait supper.  That's all I know."
+
+The captain finished his lonely meal and returned to the store,
+where he found Abel Blount's wife and their twin boys, aged eight,
+waiting to negotiate for rubber boots.  The boots were for the
+boys, but Mrs. Blount did the buying and it was a long and talky
+process.  At last, however, the youngsters were fitted and clumped
+proudly away, bearing their leather shoes in their hands.  It was a
+dry evening, but to separate the twins from those rubber boots
+would have been next door to an impossibility.
+
+"There!" exclaimed the lady, as she bade the captain good night,
+"that's done; that much is settled anyhow.  I'm thankful I ain't
+got four twins, instead of two, Cap'n Dott."
+
+Daniel, entering the sale in the ledger, was thankful also.  If the
+lengthy Blount account had been settled he would have been still
+more so.
+
+At nine o'clock he and Sam locked up, extinguished the lamps, and
+closed the Metropolitan Store for the night.  Crossing the yard to
+the house, which he entered by the front door, he found Serena in
+the sitting-room.  She was reclining upon the couch.  She was
+tired, and out of sorts.
+
+"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, acknowledging her husband's greeting
+with a nod, "I am just about worn out, Daniel."
+
+"I should think you would be, Serena.  You've been makin' tracks
+between here and that lodge room all to-day and yesterday, too.  I
+should think you'd be about dead."
+
+"It isn't that.  I don't mind the work.  It's the thanklessness of
+it all that breaks me down.  I give my time and effort to help the
+lodge, and what does it amount to?"
+
+"Well, I--I give in that it don't seem to me to amount to much,
+'cordin' to my figurin'.  I don't care much for lodge meetin's and
+sociables and such, myself.  I'd rather have one evenin' at home
+with you than the whole cargo of 'em."
+
+This statement was frank, but it was decidedly undiplomatic.
+Serena sniffed contempt.
+
+"Of course you would!" she said.  "I don't get a bit of
+encouragement here at home, either.  I should think you'd be proud
+to have your wife the head of the Chapter, presiding at meetings
+and welcoming the visiting delegates and--and all."
+
+"I am," hastily.  "I'm proud of you, Serena.  Always have been,
+far's that goes.  But I'm just as proud of you here in this
+sittin'-room as I am when you're back of that pulpit, poundin' with
+your mallet and tellin' Alphy Ann Berry to 'come to order.'
+Notwithstanding that you're the only one can make her come--or go,
+either--unless she takes a notion.  Why," with a chuckle, "it takes
+her husband half an hour to make her go home after meetin's over."
+
+Mrs. Dott did not chuckle.
+
+"You think it's a joke," she said.  "I don't.  It is the Berry
+woman and her kind that make me disgusted.  I'm tired of them all.
+I'm tired of Trumet.  I wish we were somewhere where I had an
+opportunity; somewhere where I might be appreciated."
+
+"_I_ appreciate you, Serena."
+
+Serena ignored the remark.  "I wish we had never settled here," she
+went on.  "I'd leave in a minute, if I could.  I'd like to be in
+with nice people, cultivated people, intelligent, up-to-date
+society, where I could have a chance to go on and be somebody.  I'd
+like to be a leader.  I could be.  Annette says I would be in a
+city like Scarford.  She says I 'have the faculty of the born
+leader.'  All I lack is the opportunity."
+
+Her husband sighed.  He had heard all this before.  Inwardly he
+wished Mrs. Black at Scarford, or China, or anywhere, provided it
+was not Trumet.
+
+His wife heard the sigh.  "There, Daniel," she said; "I won't be
+complaining.  I try not to be.  But," she hesitated, "there is one
+thing I'd like to ask, now that we've got your Aunt Lavinia's three
+thousand:  Don't you suppose I could have some new clothes; I need
+at least two dresses right away."
+
+"Why--why, I guess likely you could, Serena.  Yes, course you can.
+You go see Sarah Loveland right off."
+
+Miss Loveland was the Trumet dressmaker.  At the mention of her
+name Serena shook her head.
+
+"I don't want Sarah to make them, Daniel," she said.  "Mrs. Black
+says the things she makes are awful old-fashioned; 'country,' she
+calls them."
+
+Daniel snorted.  "I want to know!" he exclaimed.  "Well, I remember
+her husband when his ma used to make his clothes out of his dad's
+old ones.  I don't know whether they was 'country' or not, but they
+were the dumdest things ever _I_ saw.  Country, huh!  Scarford
+ain't any Paris, is it?  I never heard it was."
+
+"Well, it isn't Trumet.  No, Daniel, if we could afford it, I'd
+like to have these dresses made up in Boston, where Gertie gets
+hers.  Mrs. Black often speaks of Gertie's gowns; she says they are
+remarkably stylish, considering."
+
+"CONSIDERIN'!  What does she mean by that?"
+
+"Don't be cross.  I suppose she meant considering that they were
+not as expensive as her own.  DO you suppose I could go to that
+Boston dressmaker, Daniel?"
+
+Captain Dan's reply was slow in coming.  He hated to say no; in
+fact, he said it so seldom that he scarcely knew how.  So he
+temporized.
+
+"Well, Serena," he began, "I--I'd like to have you; you know that.
+If 'twasn't for the cost I wouldn't hesitate a minute."
+
+"But we have that three thousand dollars."
+
+"Well, we ain't got all of it.  Or we shan't have it long.  I was
+footin' up what I owed--what the store owes, I mean--just now, and
+it come to a pretty high figure.  Over twelve hundred, it was.
+That's GOT to be paid.  Then there's Gertie's schoolin' and her
+board.  Course, I never tell her we ain't so well off as we were.
+You and I agreed she shouldn't know.  But it takes a lot of money
+and--"
+
+Mrs. Dott sat up on the couch.  Her eyes snapped.  "Oh!" she cried;
+"money! money! money!  It's always money!  If only just once I had
+all the money I wanted, I should be perfectly happy.  If I wouldn't
+GO IT!"
+
+Steps sounded on the front porch, and the patent door bell clicked
+and clanged.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Next morning an astonishing rumor began to circulate through
+Trumet.  It spread with remarkable quickness, and, as it spread, it
+grew.  The Dotts had inherited money!  The Dotts were rich!  The
+Dotts were millionaires!  Captain Daniel's brother had died and
+left him fifty thousand dollars!  His brother's wife had died and
+left him a hundred thousand!  It was not his brother's wife, but
+Serena's uncle who had died, and the inheritance was two hundred
+and fifty thousand at least.  By the time the story reached Trumet
+Neck it seemed to be fairly certain that all the Dott relatives on
+both sides of the house had passed away, leaving the sole survivors
+of the family all the money and property in the world, with a few
+trifling exceptions.
+
+Captain Dan, coming in for dinner,--one must eat, or try to eat,
+even though the realities of life have been blown away, and one is
+moving in a sort of dream, with the fear of awakening always
+present--Captain Dan, coming into the house for dinner, expressed
+his opinion of Trumet gossip mongers.
+
+"My heavens and earth, Serena!" he cried, sinking into his chair at
+the table, "am I me, or somebody else?  Do I know what I'm doin' or
+what's happened to me, or don't I?"
+
+Serena, a transformed, flushed, excited Serena, beamed at him
+across the table.
+
+"I should hope you did, Daniel," she answered.
+
+"Well, if _I_ do, then nobody else does, and if THEY do, I don't.
+I've heard of more dead relations this forenoon than I ever had
+alive.  And yarns about 'em! and about you and me!  My soul and
+body!  Say, did you know you had a cousin-in-law in Californy?"
+
+"I?  In California?  Nonsense!"
+
+"No nonsense about it.  You had one and he was a lunatic or a
+epileptic or an epizootic or somethin', and lived in a hospital or
+a palace or a jail, and he was worth four millions or forty, I
+forget which, and fell out of an automobile or out of a balloon or
+out of bed--anyhow, it killed him--and--"
+
+"Daniel Dott!  DON'T talk so idiotic!"
+
+"Humph! that's nothin' to the idiocy that's been talked to me this
+forenoon.  I've done nothin' for the last hour but say 'No' to
+folks that come tearin' in to unload lies and ask questions.  And
+some of 'em was people you'd expect to have common sense, too.  My
+head's kind of wobbly this mornin', after the shock that hit it
+last night, but it's a regular Dan'l Webster's alongside the
+general run of heads in this town.  Aunt Laviny's will has turned
+Trumet into an asylum, and the patients are all runnin' loose."
+
+"But WHAT foolishness was that about a cousin in California?"
+
+"'Twa'n't foolishness, I tell you.  You ask any one of a dozen
+folks you meet outside the post-office now, and they'll all tell
+you you had one.  They might not agree whether 'twas a cousin or a
+grandmother or a step-child, or whether it lived in Californy or
+the Cape of Good Hope, but they all know it's dead now, and we've
+got anywheres from a postage stamp to a hogshead of diamonds.
+Serena, if you hear yells for help this afternoon, don't pay any
+attention.  It'll only mean that my patience has run out and I'm
+tryin' to make this community short one devilish fool at least.
+There'll be enough left; he'll never be missed."
+
+"Daniel, I never saw you so worked up.  You must expect people to
+be excited.  I'm excited myself."
+
+The captain wiped his forehead with his napkin.  "_I_ ain't exactly
+a graven image, now that you mention it," he admitted.  "But you
+and I have got some excuse and they ain't.  Haven't they been in to
+see you; or did you lock the doors?"
+
+"I have had callers, of course.  Mrs. Berry was here, and Mrs.
+Tripp, and the Cahoon girls, and Issachar Eldredge's wife.  The
+first four pretended they came on lodge business, and the Eldredge
+woman to get my recipe for chocolate doughnuts; but, of course, I
+knew what they really came for.  Daniel, HOW do you suppose the
+news got out so soon?  I didn't tell a soul and you promised you
+wouldn't."
+
+"I didn't, neither.  Probably that lawyer man dropped a hint down
+at the Manonquit House, and that set things goin'.  Just heave over
+one seed of a yarn in most any hotel or boardin' house and you'll
+have a crop of lies next mornin' that would load a three-master.
+They come up in the night, like toadstools."
+
+"But you didn't tell anyone how much your Aunt Lavinia left us?"
+
+"You bet I didn't.  I told 'em I didn't know yet.  I was cal'latin'
+to hire a couple of dozen men and a boy to count it, and soon's the
+job was finished I'd get out a proclamation.  What did you tell
+your gang?"
+
+"I simply said," Serena unconsciously drew herself up and spoke
+with a gracious dignity; "I said they might quote me as saying it
+was NOT a million."
+
+Azuba entered from the kitchen, heaving a steaming platter.
+
+"There!" she exclaimed, setting the dish before her employers; "I
+don't know as clam fritters are what rich folks ought to eat, but I
+done the best I could.  I'm so shook up and trembly this day it's a
+mercy I didn't fry the platter."
+
+Yes, something had happened to the Dotts, something vastly more
+wonderful and surprising than falling heir to three thousand
+dollars and a silver tea-pot.  When Captain Daniel shut up the
+Metropolitan Store the previous evening and started for the house,
+the bearer of the great news was on his way from the Manonquit
+House, where he had had supper.  When Serena bewailed her fate and
+expressed a desire for an opportunity, he was almost at the front
+gate, and the ring of the bell which interrupted her conversation
+with her husband was the signal that Opportunity, in the person of
+Mr. Glenn Farwell, Junior, newest member of the firm of Shepley and
+Farwell, attorneys, of Boston, was at the door.
+
+Mr. Farwell was spruce and brisk and businesslike; also he was
+young, a fact which he tried to conceal by a rather feeble
+beard, and much professional dignity of manner and expression.
+Occasionally, in the heat of conversation, he forgot the dignity;
+the beard he never forgot.  Shown into the Dott sitting-room by
+Azuba, who, as usual, had neglected to remove her kitchen apron, he
+bowed politely and inquired if he had the pleasure of addressing
+Captain and Mrs. Daniel Abner Dott.  The captain assured him that
+he had.  Serena was too busy glaring at the apron and its wearer to
+remember etiquette.
+
+"Won't you--won't you sit down, Mr. er--er--" began the captain.
+
+Mr. Farwell introduced himself, and sat down, as requested.  After
+a glance about the room, which took in the upright piano--purchased
+second-hand when Gertrude first began her music lessons--the what-
+not, with its array of shells, corals, miniature ships in bottles,
+and West Indian curiosities, and the crayon enlargement over the
+mantel of Captain Solon Dott, Daniel's grandfather, he proceeded
+directly to business.
+
+"Captain Dott," he said, addressing that gentleman, but bowing
+politely to Serena to indicate that she was included in the
+question, "you received a letter from our firm about a week ago,
+did you not?"
+
+Captain Dan, who had scarcely recovered from his surprise at his
+caller's identity, shook his head.  "As a matter of fact," he
+stammered, "I--I only got it to-day.  It came all right, that is,
+it got as far as the post-office, but the postmaster, he handed it
+over to Balaam Hamilton, to bring to me.  Well, Balaam is--well,
+his underpinnin's all right; he wears a number eleven shoe--but his
+top riggin' is kind of lackin' in spots.  You'd understand if you
+knew him.  He put the letter in his pocket and--"
+
+"Mercy!" cut in Serena, impatiently, "what do you suppose Mr.
+Farwell cares about Balaam Hamilton?  He forgot the letter, Mr.
+Farwell, and we only got it this morning.  That is why it hasn't
+been answered.  What about the letter?"
+
+The visitor did not answer directly.  "I see," he said.  "That
+letter informed you that Mrs. Lavinia Dott--your aunt, Captain,--
+was dead, and that we, her legal representatives, having, as we
+supposed, her will in our possession, and being in charge of her
+affairs--"
+
+Mrs. Dott interrupted.  Her excitement had been growing ever since
+she learned the visitor's name and, although her husband did not
+notice the peculiar phrasing of the lawyer's sentence, she did.
+
+"As you supposed?" she repeated.  "You did have the will, didn't
+you?"
+
+"We had a will, one which Mrs. Dott drew some eight or nine years
+ago.  But we received word from Italy only yesterday that there was
+another, a much more recent one, which superseded the one in our
+possession.  Of course, that being the case, the bequests in the
+former were not binding upon the estate.  That is to say, our will
+was not a will at all."
+
+Serena gasped.  She looked at her husband, and he at her.
+
+"Then we--then she didn't leave us the three thousand dollars?" she
+cried.
+
+"Or--or the tea-pot?" faltered Captain Dan.
+
+Mr. Farwell smiled.  He was having considerable fun out of the
+situation.  However, it would not do to keep possibly profitable
+clients in suspense too long, so he broke the news he had journeyed
+from Boston to impart.
+
+"She left you a great deal more than that," he said.  "In the
+former will, her cousin, Mr. Percy Hungerford of Scarford, was the
+principal legatee.  He was a favorite of hers, I believe, and she
+left the bulk of her property--some hundred and twenty thousand
+dollars in securities, and her estate at Scarford--to him.  But
+last February it appears that he and she had a falling out.  He--
+Mr. Hungerford--is, so I am told, a good deal of a sport--ahem!
+that is, he is a young gentleman of fashionable and expensive
+tastes, and he wrote his aunt, asking for money, rather frequently.
+The February letter reached her when she was grouchy--er--not well,
+I mean, and she changed her will, practically disinheriting him.
+Under the new will he receives twenty thousand dollars in cash.
+The balance--"  Mr. Farwell, who, during this long statement, had
+interspersed legal dignity of term with an occasional lapse into
+youthful idiom, now spoke with impressive solemnity,--"the
+balance," he said, "one hundred thousand in money and securities,
+and the house at Scarford, which is valued, I believe, at thirty-
+five thousand more, she leaves to you, as her only other relative,
+Captain Dott.  I am here to congratulate you and to offer you my
+services and those of the firm, should you desire legal advice."
+
+Having sprung his surprise, Mr. Farwell leaned back in his chair to
+enjoy the effect of the explosion.  The first effect appeared to be
+the complete stupefaction of his hearers.  Those which followed
+were characteristic.
+
+"My soul and body!" gasped Captain Dan.  "I--I--my land of love!
+And only this mornin' I was scared I couldn't pay my store bills!"
+
+"A hundred thousand dollars!" cried Serena.  "And that beautiful
+house at Scarford!  OURS!  Oh! oh! oh!"
+
+Mr. Farwell crossed his knees.  "A very handsome little windfall,"
+he observed, with condescension.
+
+"We get a hundred thousand!" murmured the captain.  "My!  I wish
+Father was alive to know about it.  But, say, it's kind of rough on
+that young Hungerford, after expectin' so much, ain't it now!"
+
+"A hundred thousand!" breathed his wife, her hands clasped.  "And
+that lovely house!  Why, we could move to Scarford to-morrow if we
+wanted to!  Yes, and live there!  Oh--oh, Daniel!  I--I don't know
+why I'm doing it, but I--I believe I'm going to cry."
+
+Her husband rushed over to the couch and threw his arm about her
+shoulder.
+
+"Go ahead, old lady," he commanded.  "Cry, if you want to.  I--I'm
+goin' to do SOMETHIN' darn ridiculous, myself!"
+
+Thus it was that Fortune and Opportunity came to the Dott door, and
+it was the news of the visitation, distorted and exaggerated, which
+set all Trumet by the ears next day.
+
+Azuba's clam fritters were neglected that noon, just as breakfast
+had been.  Neither Captain Dan nor his wife had slept, and they
+could not eat.  They pretended to, they even tried to, but one or
+the other was certain to break out with an exclamation or a
+wondering surmise, and the meal was, as the captain said, "all talk
+and no substantials."  They had scarcely risen from the table when
+the doorbell rang.
+
+Azuba heard it and made her entrance from the kitchen.  She had
+remembered this time to shed the offending apron, but she carried
+it in her hand.
+
+"I'm a-goin'," she declared; "I'm a-goin', soon's ever I can."
+
+She started for the sitting-room, but the captain stepped in front
+of her.
+
+"You stay right where you are," he ordered.  "I'll answer that bell
+myself this time."
+
+"Daniel," cried his wife, "what are you going to do?"
+
+"Do?  I'm goin' to head off some more fools, that's what I'm goin'
+to do.  They shan't get in here to pester you to death with
+questions, not if I can help it."
+
+"But, Daniel, you mustn't.  You don't know who it may be."
+
+"I don't care."
+
+"Oh, dear me!  What are you going to say?  You mustn't insult
+people."
+
+"I shan't insult 'em.  I'll tell 'em--I'll tell 'em you're sick and
+can't see anybody."
+
+"But I'm not sick."
+
+"Then, I am," said Captain Dan.  "They make me sick.  Shut up, will
+you?" addressing the bell, which had rung the second time.  "I'll
+come when I get ready."
+
+He seemed to be quite ready that very moment.  At all events he
+strode from the room, and his anxious wife and the flushed Azuba
+heard him tramping through the front hall.
+
+"What--WHAT is he going to do?" faltered Serena; "or say?"
+
+Azuba shook her head.  "Land knows!" she exclaimed.  "I ain't seen
+him this way since the weasel got into the hen-house.  He went for
+THAT with the hoe-handle.  And as for what he said!  Well, don't
+talk to ME!"
+
+But no riot or verbal explosion followed the opening of the door.
+The anxious listeners in the dining-room heard voices, but they
+were subdued ones.  A moment later Captain Dan returned.  He looked
+troubled.
+
+"It's Barney Black and his wife," he answered, in a whisper.  "I
+couldn't tell THEM to go to thunder.  They're in the front room,
+waitin'.  I suppose we'll have to see 'em, won't we?"
+
+Mrs. Dott was hurriedly shaking the wrinkles out of her gown and
+patting her hair into presentable shape.
+
+"See 'em!" she repeated.  "Of course we'll see them.  I declare!  I
+think it's real kind of 'em to call.  Daniel, do fix your necktie.
+It's way round under your ear."
+
+They entered the parlor, Serena, outwardly calm, in the lead and
+her husband following, and tugging at the refractory tie.
+
+Mrs. and Mr. Black--scanning them in the order of their importance--
+rose as they appeared.  Mrs. Black was large and impressive, and
+gorgeous to view.  She did not look her age.  Her husband was not
+as tall as his wife, and did not look his height.  Annette swept
+forward.
+
+"Oh, my dear Mrs. Dott," she gushed, taking Serena's hand in her
+own gloved one.  "We've just heard the news, Phelps and I, and we
+couldn't resist dropping in to congratulate you.  Isn't it
+wonderful!"
+
+Serena admitted that it was wonderful.  "We can hardly believe it
+yet, ourselves," she said.  "But it was real nice of you to come.
+Do sit down again, won't you?  Daniel, get Mr. Black a chair."
+
+Captain Dan and Mr. Black shook hands.  "Sit down anywhere,
+Barney," said the former.  "Anywhere but that rocker, I mean;
+that's got a squeak in the leg."
+
+Mr. Black, who had headed for the rocker, changed his course and
+sank into an arm chair.  The shudder with which his wife heard the
+word "Barney," and the glare with which Serena favored her husband,
+were entirely lost upon the latter.
+
+"We had that rocker up in the attic till last month," he observed;
+"but Serena found out 'twas an antique, and antiques seem to be
+all the go now-a-days, though you do have to be careful of 'em.
+I suppose it's all right.  We'll be antiques ourselves before
+many years, and we'll want folks to be careful of us.  Hey?  Ha!
+ha! . . .  Why, what's the matter, Serena?"
+
+Mrs. Dott replied, rather sharply, that "nothing was the matter."
+
+"The rocker isn't very strong," she explained, addressing Mrs.
+Black.  "But it belonged to my great--that is, it has been in our
+family for a good many years and we think a great deal of it."
+
+Mrs. Black condescendingly expressed her opinion that the rocker
+was a "dear."
+
+"I love old-fashioned things," she said.  "So does Mr. Black.
+Don't you, Phelps?"
+
+"Yes," replied that gentleman.  His love did not appear to be over-
+enthusiastic.
+
+"But do tell us about your little legacy," went on the lady.  "Of
+course we have heard all sorts of ridiculous stories, but we know
+better than to believe them.  Why, we even heard that you were
+worth a million.  Naturally, THAT was absurd, wasn't it?  Ha! ha!"
+
+Captain Dan opened his mouth to reply, but his wife flashed a
+glance in his direction, and he closed it again.
+
+"Yes," said Serena, addressing Mrs. Black, "that was absurd, of
+course."
+
+"So I told Phelps.  I said that the way in which these country
+people exaggerated such things was too funny for anything.  Why, we
+heard that your cousin had died--that is, _I_ heard it was a
+cousin; Phelps heard it was an uncle.  An uncle was what you heard,
+wasn't it, Phelps?"
+
+"Yes," said Phelps.  It was his second contribution to the
+conversation.
+
+"So," went on Mrs. Black, "we didn't know which it was."
+
+She paused, smilingly expectant.  Again Captain Dan started to
+speak, and again a look from his wife caused him to change his
+mind.  Before he had quite recovered, Mrs. Black, who may have
+noticed the look, had turned to him.
+
+"Wasn't it funny!" she gushed.  "I don't wonder you laugh.  Here
+was I saying it was a cousin and Phelps declaring it was an uncle.
+It was so odd and SO like this funny little town.  Do tell us;
+which was it, really, Captain Dott?"
+
+Daniel, staggering before this point blank attack, hesitated.
+"Why," he stammered, "it was--it was--"  He looked appealingly at
+Serena.
+
+"Why don't you answer Mrs. Black?" inquired his wife, rather
+sharply.
+
+"It was my Aunt Laviny," said the captain.
+
+Mrs. Black nodded and smiled.
+
+"Oh! your aunt!" she exclaimed.  "There! isn't that funny!  And SO
+characteristic of Trumet.  Neither an uncle nor a cousin, but an
+aunt.  What did you say her name was?"
+
+"Laviny?"
+
+"Yes, I know.  Laviny--what an odd name!  I don't think I ever
+heard it before.  Was the rest of it as odd as that?"
+
+Serena, who had been fidgeting in her chair, cut in here.
+
+"It wasn't Laviny at all," she said.  "That is only Daniel's way of
+pronouncing it.  It is what he used to call her when he was a
+child.  A--a sort of pet name, you know."
+
+"Why, Serena! how you talk!  She never had any pet name, far's I
+ever heard.  You might as well give a pet name to the Queen of
+Sheba.  She--"
+
+"Hush! it doesn't make any difference.  Her name, Mrs. Black, was
+Lavinia.  She was Mrs. Lavinia Dott, and her husband was James
+Dott, Daniel's father's brother.  I shouldn't wonder if you knew
+her.  She has spent most of her time in Europe lately, but her
+home, her American home, was where you live, in Scarford."
+
+This statement caused a marked sensation.  Mrs. Black gasped
+audibly, and leaned back in her chair.  B. Phelps evinced his first
+sign of interest.
+
+"What!" he exclaimed.  "Mrs. Lavinia Dott, of Scarford?  You don't
+say!  Why, of course we knew her; that is, we knew who she was.
+Everybody in Scarford did.  Her place is one of the finest in
+town."
+
+Serena bowed.  Life, for her, had not offered many sweeter moments
+than this.
+
+"Yes," she said, calmly, "so we understand.  The place--er--that
+is, the estate--is a PART--" she emphasized the word--"a PART of
+what she left to my husband."
+
+"Great Scott!" exclaimed Mr. Black.  His wife said nothing, but her
+face was a study.
+
+Captain Dan crossed his knees.
+
+"I remember seein' that place after Uncle Jim first built it," he
+observed, reminiscently.  "I tell you it looked big enough to me!
+I was only a young feller, just begun goin' to sea, and that house
+looked big as a town hall, you might say.  Ho! ho! when I got
+inside and was sittin' in the front parlor, I declare I was all
+feet and hands! didn't know what to do with 'em. . . .  Hey? did
+you speak, Serena?"
+
+"I was only going to say," replied his wife, "that that was a good
+while ago, of course.  You have been about the world and seen a
+great deal since.  Things look different after we grow up, don't
+they, Mrs. Black?"
+
+Annette's composure, a portion of it, had returned by this time.
+Nevertheless, there was an odd note in her voice.
+
+"They do, indeed," she said.  "I remember the Dott house, of
+course.  It was very fine, I believe, in its day."
+
+Her husband interrupted.  "In its day!" he repeated.  "Humph!
+there's nothing the matter with it now, that I can see.  I wish I
+had as good.  Why--"
+
+"Phelps!" snapped Annette, "don't be silly.  Mrs. Dott understands
+what I meant to say.  The place is very nice, very attractive,
+indeed.  Perhaps some might think it a bit old-fashioned, but that
+is a matter of taste."
+
+"Humph! it's on the best street in town.  As for being old-
+fashioned--I thought you just said you loved old-fashioned things.
+That's what she said, wasn't it, Dan?"
+
+Mrs. Black's gloved fingers twitched, but she ignored the remark
+entirely.  Daniel, too, did not answer, although he smiled in an
+uncertain fashion.  It was Serena who spoke.
+
+"I haven't any doubt it is lovely," she said.  "We're just dying to
+see it, Daniel and I.  I hope you can be with us when we do, Mrs.
+Black.  You might suggest some improvements, you know."
+
+"Improvements!" the visitor repeated the word involuntarily.
+"Improvements!  You're not going to LIVE there, are you?"
+
+"I don't know.  We may.  Now, Daniel, don't argue.  You know we
+haven't made up our minds yet what we shall do.  And Scarford is a
+beautiful city.  Mrs. Black has told us so ever so many times.
+What were you going to say, Mrs. Black?"
+
+The lady addressed looked as if she would like to say several
+things, particularly to her husband, who was grinning maliciously.
+But what she did was to smile, a smile of gracious sweetness, and
+agree that Scarford was beautiful.
+
+"And so is the place, my dear Mrs. Dott," she added.  "A very
+charming, quaint old house.  But--you'll excuse my saying so, won't
+you; you know Phelps and I have had some experience in keeping up a
+city estate--don't you think it might prove rather expensive for
+you to maintain?"
+
+Serena's armor was not even dented.  "Oh," she said, lightly, "that
+wouldn't trouble us, I'm sure.  Really, we've hardly thought of the
+expense.  The Scarford place wasn't ALL that Aunt Lavinia left us,
+Mrs. Black."
+
+"Indeed!" rather feebly, "wasn't it?"
+
+"My goodness, no!  But there!  I mustn't talk about ourselves and
+our affairs any more.  Have you seen the lodge rooms to-day?  I
+must find time to run down there this afternoon for a last look
+around.  I want this open meeting to go off nicely.  Who knows--
+well, I may not have the care of the next one."
+
+Azuba appeared in the doorway.
+
+"The minister and his wife's comin'," she announced.
+
+Mrs. Dott turned.
+
+"The minister and his wife?" she repeated.  "The bell hasn't rung,
+has it?  How do you know they're coming here?"
+
+"See 'em through the window," replied Azuba, cheerfully.  "They was
+at the gate quite a spell.  She was gettin' her hat straight, and
+he was helpin' her.  Here they be," as the callers' footsteps
+sounded on the porch.  "Shall I let 'em in?"
+
+"Let them in!  Why, of course!  Why shouldn't you let them in?"
+
+"Well, I didn't know.  The way the cap'n was talkin' when you was
+havin' dinner, I thought--oh, that reminds me," addressing the
+horror stricken Daniel, "Sam was in just now and wanted you to come
+right out to the store.  Ezra Taylor's there and he wants another
+pair of them checkered overalls, same as he had afore."
+
+
+
+That evening when, having closed the Metropolitan Store at an early
+hour, the captain and his wife were on their way to the lodge
+meeting, Daniel voiced a feeling of perplexity which had disturbed
+his mind ever since the Blacks' call.
+
+"Say, Serena," he asked, "ain't you and Barney Black's wife friends
+any more?"
+
+"Why, of course we're friends.  What a question that is."
+
+"Humph! didn't seem to me you acted much like friends this
+afternoon.  Slappin' each other back and forth--"
+
+"Slappin' each other!  Have you lost your brains altogether?  What
+DO you mean?"
+
+"I don't mean slappin' each other side of the head.  'Tain't likely
+I meant that.  But the way you talked to each other--and the way
+you looked.  And when 'twa'n't her it was me.  She as much as asked
+you four or five times who it was that had died and you wouldn't
+tell, so, of course, I supposed you didn't want to.  And yet, when
+she asked me and I was backin' and fillin', tryin' to get off the
+shoals, you barked out why didn't I 'answer her'?  That may be
+sense, but I don't see it, myself."
+
+Serena laughed and squeezed his arm with her own.
+
+"Did I bark?" she asked.  "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to.  But it did
+make me cross to have her come sailing in, in that high and mighty
+way--"
+
+"It's the same way she always sails.  I never saw her when she
+didn't act as if she was the only clipper in the channel and small
+craft better get out from under her bows."
+
+"I know, you never did like her, although she has been so kind and
+nice to me and to Gertrude.  Why, we, and the minister's family,
+and Doctor Bradstreet's people, are the only ones, except the
+summer folks, that she has anything to do with."
+
+The captain muttered that he knew it but that THAT didn't make him
+like her any better.  His wife continued.
+
+"I was a little put out by her to-day," she admitted.  "You see,
+she was SO anxious to find out things, and SO sure we couldn't be
+very rich, and SO certain we couldn't keep up Aunt Lavinia's big
+house, that--that I just had to give her as good as she sent."
+
+Daniel chuckled.  "You did that all right," he said.
+
+"But I wouldn't hurt her feelings--really hurt them--for the world.
+I like her and admire her, and I am sure she likes me."
+
+"Humph!  All right; only next time you get to admirin' each other
+I'm goin' out.  That kind of admiration makes me nervous.  I heard
+you admirin' Zuba out in the kitchen just before we left."
+
+"Azuba makes me awfully out of patience.  She won't do what I tell
+her; she will wear her apron to the door; she will talk when she
+shouldn't.  Just think what she said about you when the minister
+called.  It was just Providence, and nothing else, that kept her
+from telling the Blacks what you said and how you acted at dinner.
+That's it--laugh!  I expected you'd think it was funny."
+
+"Well, I give in that it does seem kind of funny to me, now, though
+it didn't when she started to say it.  But you can't stop Zuba
+talkin' any more than you can a poll parrot.  She means well; she's
+awful good-hearted--yes, and sensible, too, in her way."
+
+"I can't help it.  She's got to learn her place.  Just think of
+having her up there at Scarford, behaving as she does."
+
+The captain caught his breath.
+
+"Scarford!" he repeated.  "At Scarford!  Look here, Serena, what
+are you talkin' about?  You didn't mean what you said to that Black
+woman about our goin' to Scarford to live?"
+
+"I don't know that I didn't.  There! there! don't get excited.  I
+don't say I do mean it, either.  Aunt Lavinia's left us that lovely
+house, hasn't she?  We've got it on our hands, haven't we?  What
+are we going to do with it?"
+
+"Why--why, I--I was cal'latin' we'd probably sell it, maybe.  We've
+got our own place here in Trumet.  We don't want two places, do
+we?"
+
+"We might sell this one, at a pinch.  No, Daniel, I don't know what
+we shall do yet awhile.  But, one thing I AM sure of--you and I
+will go to Scarford and LOOK at that house, if nothing more.  Now,
+don't argue, please.  We're almost at the meeting.  Be sure you
+don't tell anyone how much money we've got or anything about it.
+They'll all ask, of course, and they'll all talk about us, but you
+must expect that.  Our position in life has altered, Daniel, and
+rich folks are always looked at and talked over.  Are your shoes
+clean?  Did you bring a handkerchief?  Be sure and don't applaud
+too much when I'm speaking, because last time I was told that
+Abigail Mayo said if she was married and had a husband she wouldn't
+order him to clap his hands half off every time his wife opened her
+mouth.  She isn't married and ain't likely to be, but. . . .  Oh,
+Mrs. Black, I'm SO glad to see you!  It's real lovely of you to
+come so early."
+
+Daniel Dott, as has been intimated, did not share his wife's love
+for lodge meetings.  He attended them because she did, and wished
+him to, but he was not happy while they were going on.  At this one
+he was distinctly unhappy.  He saw Serena and Annette Black
+exchange greetings as if the little fencing match of the afternoon
+had been but an exchange of compliments.  He saw the two ladies go,
+arm in arm, to the platform, where sat the "Boston delegates."  He
+nodded to masculine acquaintances in the crowd, other captives
+chained, like himself, to their wives' and daughters' chariot
+wheels.  He heard the applause which greeted Serena's opening
+speech of introduction.  He heard the Boston delegates speak, and
+Mrs. Black's gracious response to the request for a few words from
+the president of our Scarford Chapter.  He heard it all, but, when
+it was over, he could not have repeated a sentence of all those
+which had reached his ears.
+
+No, Captain Dan was not happy at this, the most successful "open
+meeting" ever held by the Trumet Chapter of the Guild of Ladies of
+Honor.  He was thinking, and thinking hard.  Aunt Lavinia's will
+had changed their position in life, so Serena had said.  She had
+said other things, also, and he was beginning, dimly, to realize
+what they might mean.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+"SCARFORD!" screamed the brakeman, throwing open the car door.
+"Scarford!"
+
+Mrs. Dott, umbrella in hand, was already in the aisle.  Captain
+Dan, standing between the seats, was struggling to get the suitcase
+down from the rack above.  It was a brand-new suitcase.  Serena had
+declared that their other, the one which had accompanied them on
+various trips to Boston during the past eight years, was altogether
+too shabby.  She had insisted on buying another, and, the stock in
+the store not being good enough, had selected this herself from the
+catalog of a Boston manufacturer.  Her umbrella, silk with a silver
+handle, was new also.  So was her hat, her gown and her shoes.  So,
+too, was the captain's hat, and his suit and light overcoat.  There
+was a general air of newness about the Dotts, so apparent,
+particularly on Daniel's part, that various passengers had nudged
+each other, winked, and whispered surmises concerning recent
+marriage and a honeymoon trip.
+
+The suitcase, the buckle of which had caught in the meshes of the
+rack, giving way, came down unexpectedly and with a thump on the
+seat.  The captain hurriedly lifted it.  A stifled laugh from the
+occupants of adjacent seats reached Serena's ears.
+
+"What is it?" she demanded impatiently.  "Aren't you coming?  Do
+hurry."
+
+"I--I'm comin'," stammered her husband, thrusting his fist into the
+new hat which, as it lay on the seat, had received the weight of
+the falling suitcase.  "I'm comin'.  Go ahead!  I'll be right
+along."
+
+He pounded the battered "derby" into more or less presentable
+shape, clapped it on his head, and, suitcase in hand, followed his
+wife.
+
+Through the crowd on the platform they passed, through the waiting
+room and out to the sidewalk.  There Captain Dan put down the case,
+gave the maltreated hat a brush with his sleeve, and looked about
+him.
+
+"Lively place, ain't it, Serena?" he observed.  "Whew! that valise
+is heavy.  Well, where's the next port of call?"
+
+"We'll go to the hotel first.  Oh, dear, it's a shame things
+happened so we had to come now.  In another fortnight the Blacks
+would have been here and we could have gone right to their house.
+Mrs. Black felt dreadfully about it.  She said so ever so many
+times."
+
+The captain made no answer.  If he had doubts concerning the depths
+of the Blacks' sorrow he kept them to himself.  Picking up the
+suitcase, he stepped forward to the curb.
+
+"Where are you going?" demanded his wife.
+
+"Why, to the hotel.  That's where you wanted to go, wasn't it?"
+
+"Certainly; but how were you going?  You don't know where it is."
+
+"No, so I don't.  But I can hail one of those electrics and ask the
+conductor to stop when he got to it.  He'd know where 'twas, most
+likely."
+
+"Electric" is the Down East term for trolley car, lines of which
+were passing and repassing the station.  Daniel waved his
+disengaged hand to the conductor of the nearest.  The car stopped.
+
+"Wait a minute," said Serena quickly.  "How do you know that car is
+going the right way?"
+
+"Hey?  Well, of course I don't know, but--"
+
+"Of course you don't.  Besides, we don't want to go in an electric.
+We must take a carriage."
+
+"A carriage?  A hack, you mean.  What do we want to do that for?"
+
+"Because it's what everyone does."
+
+"No, they don't.  Look at all the folks on that electric now.
+Besides, we--"
+
+"Hi there!" shouted the conductor of the car angrily.  "Brace up!
+Get a move on, will you?"
+
+Mrs. Dott regarded him with dignity.
+
+"We're not coming," she said.  "You can go right along."
+
+The car proceeded, the conductor commenting freely and loudly, and
+the passengers on the broad grin.
+
+"Now, Daniel," said Serena, "you get one of those carriages and
+we'll go as we ought to.  I know we've always gone in the electrics
+when we were in Boston, but then we didn't feel as if we could
+afford anything else.  Now we can.  And don't stop to bargain about
+the fare.  What is fifty cents more or less to US?"
+
+The captain shook his head, but he obeyed orders.  A few minutes
+later they were seated in a cab, drawn by a venerable horse and
+driven by a man with a hooked nose, and were moving toward the
+Palatine House, the hostelry recommended by Mrs. Black as the
+finest in Scarford.
+
+"There!" said Serena, leaning back against the shabby cushions,
+"this is better than an electric, isn't it?  And when we get to the
+hotel you'll see the difference it will make in the way they treat
+us.  Mrs. Black says there is everything in a first impression.  If
+people judge by your looks that you're no account they'll treat you
+that way.  But what were you and the driver having such a talk
+about?"
+
+Captain Dan grinned.  "I got the name of the hotel wrong at first,"
+he admitted.  "I called it the Palestine House instead of the other
+thing.  The driver thought I was makin' fun of him.  It ain't safe
+to mention Palestine to a feller with a nose like that."
+
+The Palatine House was new and gorgeous; built in the hope of
+attracting touring automobilists, it was that dreary mistake, a
+cheap imitation of the swagger metropolitan article.  Scarford was
+not a metropolis, and the imitation in this case was a particularly
+poor one.  However, to the Dotts, its marble-floored lobby and
+gilded pillars and cornices were grand and imposing.  Their room on
+the third floor looked out upon the street below, and if the view
+of shops and signs and trucks and trolleys was not beautiful it
+was, at least, distinctly different from any view in Trumet.
+
+Serena gloried in it.
+
+"Ah!" she sighed, "this is something like.  THIS is life!  There's
+something going on here, Daniel.  Don't you feel it?"
+
+Daniel was counting his small change.
+
+"What say?" he asked.
+
+His wife repeated her question, raising her voice to carry above
+the noises of the street.
+
+"Feel it!  Yes, yes; and hear it, too.  How we're ever goin' to
+sleep with all that hullabaloo outside I don't know.  Don't you
+suppose we could get a quieter room than this, Serena?"
+
+"I don't want a quiet room.  I don't want to sleep.  I feel as if
+I'd been asleep all my life.  Now, thank goodness, I am where
+people are really awake.  What are you doing with that money?"
+
+"Oh, just lookin' at it, while I can.  I shan't have the chance
+very long, if the other folks in this town are like that hack
+driver.  A dollar to drive half a mile in that hearse!  Why, the
+whole shebang wa'n't worth more than two dollars, to buy.  And then
+he had the cheek to ask me to give him 'a quarter for himself.'"
+
+"Yes, that was his tip.  We must expect that.  Gertrude says she
+always has to tip the servants and drivers and such at college.
+Did you give it to him?"
+
+"Who?  Me?  I told him I was collectin' for a museum, and I'd give
+him a quarter for the horse, just as it stood--or WHILE it stood.
+I said he'd better take the offer pretty quick because the critter
+looked as if 'twould lay down most any minute."
+
+He chuckled.  Serena, however, was very solemn.
+
+"Daniel," she said, "I must speak to you again about your language.
+You've lived in Trumet so long that you talk just like Azuba, or
+pretty nearly as bad.  You mustn't say 'critter' and 'wa'n't' and
+'cal'late.'  Do try, won't you, to please me?"
+
+"I'll try, Serena.  But I don't see what difference it makes.  We
+DO live in Trumet, don't we?"
+
+"We HAVE lived there.  How long we shall--But there, never mind.
+Just remember as well as you can and get ready now for dinner."
+
+Her husband muttered that he didn't see where the "getting ready"
+came in; he had on the best he'd got.  But he washed his hands and
+brushed his hair and they descended to the dining-room, where they
+ate a 'table d'hote' meal, beginning with lukewarm soup and ending
+with salty ice cream.
+
+They had left Trumet the previous evening, spending the night at
+Centreboro and taking the early morning train for Scarford.  Two
+weeks had passed since the fateful visit of young Mr. Farwell, and,
+though the wondrous good fortune which had befallen the Dott family
+was still wonderful, they were beginning to accept it as a real and
+established fact.  All sorts of things had happened during those
+two weeks.  They had gone to Boston, where they spent the better
+part of two days with the lawyers, going over the lists of
+securities, signing papers, and arranging all sorts of business
+matters.  Serena and the attorneys did the most of the arranging.
+Captain Dan looked on, understanding very little, saying "Yes" or
+"No" as commanded by his wife, and signing his name whenever and
+wherever requested.
+
+After another day, spent in the Boston shops, where the new clothes
+were purchased or ordered, a process which Serena enjoyed hugely
+and her husband endured with a martyr's patience, they had paid a
+flying visit to the college town and Gertrude.  They found the
+young lady greatly excited and very happy, but her happiness was
+principally on their account.
+
+"I'm so glad for you both, Daddy," she told her father.  "When I
+got Mother's letter with the news the very first thing I thought
+was:  'There! now Father won't have to worry any more about the old
+store or anything else.  He can be comfortable and carefree and
+happy, as he deserves to be.'  And you won't worry, will you, Dad?"
+
+The captain seemed oddly doubtful.
+
+"I shan't if I can help it," he said.  "But I'm the most foolish
+chap that ever lived, in some ways, seems so.  When the business
+was so I had to worry about it all the time I used to set up nights
+wishin' I didn't own it.  Now that we're fixed so it don't make
+much difference whether I get a profit or not, I find myself
+frettin' and wonderin' how Nathaniel and Sam are gettin' along.  I
+wake up guessin' how much they've sold since I've been away, and
+whether we're stuck on those canvas hats and those middy blouses
+and one thing or 'nother, same as I was afraid we'd be.  I've only
+been away three days altogether, but it seems about a year."
+
+Gertrude smiled and shook her head.
+
+"Why don't you sell out?" she asked.  "Or would no one buy?  I
+presume that's it."
+
+"No-o, that ain't it.  I don't wonder you think so, but it ain't.
+Cohen--the fellow that owns the Emporium--was in only the day afore
+we left, hintin' around about my retirin' and so on.  He didn't
+make any real bid for the business, but he as much as said he'd
+consider buyin' me out if I'd sell.  Your mother, she'd give me
+fits if she knew it.  She wants me to sell; but--but somehow I
+can't make up my mind to.  I've been so used to goin' out to that
+store every mornin' and--and havin' it on my mind that somehow I
+hate to give it up.  Seems like cuttin' my anchor rope, as you
+might say."
+
+"I understand.  I shall feel much the same, I know, when I graduate
+and my college work is over.  I shall be lost for a time without
+it; or I should be if it were not for John and--and my other plans.
+But, whether you keep the store or not, you mustn't worry any more,
+Daddy dear.  Nathaniel is a clever, able fellow; every one says so.
+You were fortunate to get him.  Why don't you engage him
+permanently?  With his experience, he might make a real success of
+the business.  Who knows?"
+
+He could not possibly make less of a success than the captain had
+made, that was fairly certain, although she did not say so.
+Nathaniel Bangs was a Trumet young man who had been getting on well
+with a little business of his own in Brockton, but who, owing to
+ill health, had been obliged to return to the Cape the year before.
+Then, health much improved, he was very glad of the opportunity to
+take charge of the Metropolitan Store during its owners' short
+absence.  Serena had thought of him, and Serena had hired him.
+
+Captain Dan's real reason for not selling out to the astute Mr.
+Cohen he had kept to himself.  His wife's hints concerning Scarford
+and her discontent in Trumet were his reasons.  These were what
+troubled him most.  He liked Trumet; he liked its quiet, easy-going
+atmosphere; he liked the Trumet people, and they liked him.  He had
+never been in Scarford, but he was certain he should not like the
+life there, the kind of life lived by the B. Phelps Blacks, at any
+rate.  The Metropolitan Store was, he felt, an anchor holding him
+fast to the Cape Cod village.  If he cut the anchor rope, goodness
+knows where he might drift.
+
+On the very day of their return from the Boston trip Serena had
+begun to discuss the visit to Scarford, the visit of inspection to
+Aunt Lavinia's "estate."  They must go, she said; of course they
+must go.  It was their duty to do that, at least.  How could they
+know what to do with the property until they saw it?  To all
+Daniel's feeble objections and excuses she was deaf.  Of course
+they could leave the house.  Azuba would take care of that, just as
+she always did when they were away.  As for the store, Nathaniel
+would be glad to remain as manager indefinitely if they wanted him.
+Surely he had done splendidly with it while they were in Boston.
+
+He had.  During the four days' absence of its proprietor the
+Metropolitan Store had actually sold more goods for cash than it
+had sold during any previous week that summer.  Bangs was
+optimistic concerning its prospects.  He was loaded with schemes
+and ideas.
+
+"All you need is a little push and up-to-date methods, Cap'n," he
+said.  "You must advertise a little, and let people know what
+you've got to sell.  That's how I got rid of all that stale candy
+you had in the boxes behind the showcase.  I knew the Methodist
+folks had a Sunday school picnic on the slate for Tuesday.  Kids
+like candy, but candy costs money.  I got out all that stale stuff,
+put it up in bags at five cents apiece, and sent the bags and Sam
+here to the picnic.  About every kid had ten cents or so to spend,
+and it didn't make any difference to him or her whether the candy
+was fresh or not, so there was enough of it.  If a chocolate cream
+is harder than the rock of Gibraltar it lasts longer when you're
+eating it, and that's a big advantage to the average young one.
+Sam came back, sold out, and we've got four dollars and eighty
+cents right out of the junk pile, as you might call it.  The kids
+are happy and so are we.  There's a half-dozen dried-up oilskin
+coats in the attic that I've got my eye on.  The Manonquit House
+crowd are going off on a final codfishing cruise to-morrow and I'll
+be on the dock with those coats at a dollar apiece when they sail."
+
+"But--but those coats are old as Methuselah," faltered the captain.
+"They'll leak, won't they?"
+
+"Not if it's fair weather, they won't.  And, if it's rough, they're
+better than nothing.  You can't expect a mackintosh for a dollar."
+
+Daniel's method would have been to refuse selling the coats because
+they "wouldn't be much good in a no'theaster."  When the codfishers
+returned, enthusiastic because, although it had "drizzled" for
+fifteen minutes, they had not gotten wet, he scratched his head and
+regarded his new assistant with awe.  Mr. Bangs' services were
+retained, "for a spell, anyhow," and the captain's principal excuse
+for not visiting Scarford was knocked in the head.  To Scarford
+they went, and at the Palatine Hotel in Scarford they now were.
+
+The 'table d'hote' meal eaten, the next feature of Mrs. Dott's
+program was the visit to the Aunt Lavinia homestead.  There was a
+caretaker in charge, so the Boston lawyers told them, and Serena
+had written him announcing the coming of the new owners.  In spite
+of her husband's protestations, another carriage was hired for the
+journey.  Daniel was strongly in favor of walking or going by
+trolley.
+
+"Walkin'll be cheaper, Serena," he declared, "and pretty nigh as
+fast, to say nothin' of bein' more cheerful.  A hack always makes
+me think of funerals and graveyards, and that skeleton of a horse
+looked like somethin' that had been buried and dug up.  Let's walk,
+will you?"
+
+But Serena would not walk.
+
+"We must get used to carriages," she said.  "We may ride in them a
+great deal from now on.  And, besides, we needn't take a horse
+carriage.  We shouldn't have taken one before.  Get one of those
+new kind, the automobile ones.  What is it they call them?  Oh,
+yes--taxis."
+
+The taxi gave no opportunity for complaint as far as slowness was
+concerned.  After the first quarter of a mile dodge up the crowded
+street Captain Dan shouted through the window.
+
+"Hi!" he hailed, addressing the driver.  "Hi, you!  You've made a
+mistake, ain't you?  You thought we wanted to fly.  We don't.  Just
+hit the ground once in a while, so we'll know it's there."
+
+After this the cab moved at a more reasonable speed and its
+occupants had an opportunity to observe the streets through which
+they were passing.  The business district was being left behind and
+they were entering the residential section.
+
+Mrs. Dott seized her husband's arm.
+
+"Look!" she cried.  "Look, Daniel, quick!  Do you see that?  That
+building there!"
+
+"I see it.  Some kind of a hall or somethin', ain't it?"
+
+"Yes.  And I'm quite sure, from what Mrs. Black said, that it is
+the hall where the Scarford Guild meets.  Yes, it's just as she
+said it was.  I'm SURE that's it.  Oh, I'm glad I've seen it!  Yes,
+and Mrs. Black said they lived not very far from the hall.  Daniel!
+Daniel! ask the man if he knows where the Blacks live and if he can
+show us their house."
+
+Captain Dan obediently made the inquiry.
+
+"Who?" grunted the driver.  "Which Black?  Black and Cobb, the Wee
+Waist Corset feller?  Sure!  I know where he lives.  I'll show
+you."
+
+A few moments later the cab slackened its speed.
+
+"There you are!" said the driver, pointing.  "That's Black's house.
+Built two years ago, 'twas."
+
+Serena and Daniel looked.  The house was new and commodious, a
+trifle ornate in decoration, perhaps, and a bit mixed in
+architecture, owing to Mrs. Black's insisting upon the embodiment
+of various features which she had seen in magazines; but on the
+whole a rather fine house.  To the Dotts, of course, it was a
+mansion.
+
+"My!" said Serena, "to think of our knowing, really knowing, people
+who live in a house like that!  Oh, dear!" with a sigh, "I almost
+wish I hadn't seen it until after we'd seen our own.  We must try
+not to be disappointed, mustn't we?"
+
+Captain Dan was surprised.  "Disappointed?" he said.  "Why, what do
+you mean?  As I recollect Aunt Laviny's place, 'twas just as good
+as that, if not better.  You said so yourself.  You used to call it
+a regular palace."
+
+"I know, but don't you think that was because we hadn't seen many
+fine houses then?  I'm afraid that was it.  You know Mrs. Black
+said it was old-fashioned."
+
+"Humph!  Barney--What's his name?  Phelps, I mean--he said he
+wished his was as good.  Don't you remember he did?"
+
+"Probably he didn't mean it.  I'm not going to expect too much,
+anyway.  I'm going to try and think of it as just a nice old place,
+and then I shan't feel bad when I see it.  I'm not going to get my
+expectations up or be a bit excited."
+
+In proof of the sincerity of this determination, she sat bolt
+upright on the seat and looked straight before her.  Her husband,
+however, was staring out of the window with all his might.
+
+"Say!" he exclaimed, "this is a mighty nice street, anyhow."
+
+"Is it?  Is it really?"  For a person not excited, Mrs. Dott's
+breathing was short and her fingers, tightly clasped in her lap,
+were trembling.
+
+"You bet it is!  Hey!  Why, we're slowin' up!  We're stoppin'."
+
+The cab drew up at the curb and came to a standstill.
+
+"Here you are," said the driver.  "This is Number 180."
+
+Daniel made no reply.  Leaning from the window, he was staring with
+all his might.  Serena's impatience got the better of her.
+
+"Well?  WELL?" she burst forth.  "What does it look like?  Do say
+something!"
+
+The captain drew back into the carriage.
+
+"My--soul!" he exclaimed presently.  "Look, Serena."
+
+Serena looked, and her look was a long one.  Then, her face flushed
+and her eyes shining, she turned to her husband.
+
+"Oh!  Oh, Daniel!" she gasped.  "It's as good as the Blacks', isn't
+it?  I--I do believe it's better!  Get out, quick!"
+
+The caretaker, a middle-aged man with dark hair and mutton-chop
+whiskers, met them at the top of the stone steps leading to the
+front door.  He bowed low.
+
+"Good afternoon, ma'am," he said.  "Good afternoon, sir.  Mr. Dott,
+ain't it, sir?  And Mrs. Dott, ma'am.  My name is 'Apgood, sir.  I
+was expecting you.  Will you be so good as to walk in?"
+
+He threw open the door and, bowing once more, ushered them into the
+hall, a large, old-fashioned hall with lofty ceiling and a mahogany
+railed staircase.
+
+"I presume, sir," he said, addressing the captain, "that you and
+the madam would wish to 'ave me show you about a bit.  I was Mrs.
+Dott's--the late Mrs. Dott's--butler when she resided 'ere, sir,
+and she was good enough to make me 'er caretaker when she went
+away, sir."
+
+Captain Dan, rather overawed by Mr. Hapgood's magnificent manner,
+observed that he wanted to know, adding that he had heard about the
+caretaking from the lawyers "up to Boston."  After an appraising
+glance at the speaker, Mr. Hapgood addressed his next remark to
+Serena.
+
+"Shall I show you about the establishment, madam?" he asked.
+
+Serena's composure was a triumph.  An inexperienced observer might
+have supposed she had been accustomed to butlers and establishments
+all her life.
+
+"Yes," she said loftily, "you can show us."
+
+Mr. Hapgood was a person of wide experience; however, he merely
+bowed and led the way.  Serena followed him, and Captain Dan
+followed Serena.
+
+A large drawing-room, a library, a very large dining-room, five
+large bedrooms--"owners' and guest rooms," Mr. Hapgood grandly
+termed them, to distinguish from the servants' quarters at the
+rear--billiard room, bathroom, and back to the hall again.
+
+"You would wish to see the kitchens, I suppose, ma'am," said Mr.
+Hapgood.  "Doubtless Mr. Dott wouldn't care for those, sir.  Most
+gentlemen don't.  Perhaps, sir, you'd sit 'ere while the lady and I
+go through the service portion of the 'ouse, sir."
+
+Daniel, who was rather curious to see the "service portion," partly
+because he had never heard of one before, hesitated.  His wife,
+however, settled the question.  She was conscious of a certain
+condescension in the Hapgood tone.
+
+"Of course," she said lightly, "Cap'n Dott will not go to the--
+er--service portion.  Such things never interest him.  Sit here,
+Daniel, and wait.  Now--" cutting off just in time the "Mister"
+that was on the tip of her tongue and remembering how butlers in
+novels were invariably addressed--"Now--er--Hapgood, you can take
+me to the--ahem--kitchens."
+
+It was somewhat disappointing to find that the plural was merely a
+bit of verbal embroidery on the caretaking butler's part, and that
+there was but one kitchen, situated in the basement.  However, it
+was of good size and well furnished with closets, the contents of
+which stirred Serena's housekeeping curiosity.  The inspection of
+the kitchen and laundry took some time.
+
+Meanwhile, upstairs in the dim front hall, Captain Dan sat upon a
+most uncomfortable carved teak-wood chair and looked about him.
+Through the doorway leading to the drawing-room--"front parlor," he
+would have called it--he could see the ebony grand piano, the
+ormolu clock, and the bronze statuettes on the marble mantel, the
+buhl cabinet filled with bric-a-brac, the heavy mahogany-framed and
+silk-covered sofa.  There were oil paintings on the walls,
+paintings which foreign dealers, recognizing Aunt Lavinia's art
+craving as a gift of Providence--to them--had sold her at high
+prices.  They were, for the most part, landscapes, inclining
+strongly to snow-covered mountains, babbling brooks, and cows; or
+marines in which one-third of vivid sunset illumined two-thirds of
+placid sea.  Of portraits there were two, Uncle Jim Dott in black
+broadcloth and dignity and Aunt Lavinia Dott in dignity and black
+satin.
+
+Captain Dan felt strangely out of place alone amid this oppressive
+grandeur.  Again, as on the memorable occasion of his first visit
+to the house, he was conscious of his hands and feet.  Aunt
+Lavinia's likeness, staring stonily and paintily from the wall,
+seemed to regard him with disapproval, almost as if she were
+reading his thoughts.  If the portrait could have spoken he might
+have expected it to say:  "Here is the person upon whom all these,
+my worldly possessions, have been bestowed, and he does not
+appreciate them.  There he sits, upon the teakwood chair which I
+myself bought in Cairo, and, so far from being grateful for the
+gifts which my generosity has poured into his lap, he is wondering
+what in the world to do with them, and wishing himself back in
+Trumet."
+
+Mrs. Dott and the caretaker reentered the hall.
+
+"Thank you, Mr.--er--Thank you, Hapgood," said the lady.  "That
+will be all for to-day, I think.  We will go now.  Come, Daniel."
+
+Hapgood bowed.  "You would wish me to stay 'ere as I've done,
+ma'am?" he asked.
+
+"Yes.  You may stay, for the present.  Cap'n Dott and I will pay
+your regular wages as long as we need you."
+
+"Thank you kindly, ma'am.  And might I take the liberty of saying
+that if you decide to stay 'ere permanently, ma'am, and need a
+butler or a manservant about the place, I should be glad to 'ave
+you consider me for the position.  I'm sure it would 'ave pleased
+the late Mrs. Dott to 'ave you do so, ma'am."
+
+"Well," said the captain, with surprising promptness for him, "you
+see, Mr. Hapgood, as far as that goes we ain't intendin' to--"
+
+"Hush, Daniel.  We don't know what we intend.  You know that our
+plans are not settled as yet.  We will consider the matter,
+Hapgood.  Good day."
+
+"Good day, ma'am," said Hapgood.  "Good day, sir."
+
+He opened the big front door, bowed them out, and stood respectfully
+waiting as they descended the steps.  The taxi driver, whom the
+captain had neglected to discharge or pay, was still there at the
+curb with his vehicle.  Serena addressed him.
+
+"The Palatine Hotel," she said, with great distinctness.  "Come,
+Daniel."
+
+They entered the cab.  Captain Dan closed the door.  The driver,
+looking up at Mr. Hapgood, grinned broadly.  The latter gentleman
+glanced at the cab window to make sure that his visitors were not
+watching him, then he winked.
+
+As the cab whizzed through the streets Serena gloated over the
+splendors of their new possessions.  The house was finer than she
+expected, the furniture was so rich and high-toned, the pictures--
+did Daniel notice the pictures?
+
+"And the location!" she cried ecstatically.  "Right on the very
+best street in town, and yet, so the Hapgood man said, convenient
+to the theaters and the clubs and the halls.  We saw the Ladies of
+Honor hall on the way up, Daniel, you remember."
+
+Daniel nodded.  "Yes," he admitted, "it's fine and convenient and
+all.  We"--with a sidelong glance at his wife's face--"we ought to
+get a good rent for it if we decide not to sell; hey, Serena?"
+
+Serena did not answer.  When they reached the hotel she left her
+husband to settle with the driver and took the elevator to their
+room.  A few minutes later the captain joined her.  He looked as if
+suffering from shock.
+
+"My heavens and earth, Serena!" he exclaimed, "what do you suppose
+that tax hack feller had the cheek to--"
+
+"Sshh! shh!" interrupted the lady, who was reclining upon the
+couch.  "Don't bother me now, Daniel.  I don't want to be bothered
+with common every-day things now; I want to think."
+
+"Common!  Everyday!  My soul and body! if what that pirate charged
+me was everyday, I'd be in the poorhouse in a fortni't.  Why--"
+
+"Oh, don't!  Please don't!  Can't you see I am trying to realize
+that it's true and not a dream.  That it has really happened--to
+ME.  Please don't talk.  Do go away, can't you?  Just go out and
+take a walk, or something; just for a little while.  I want to be
+alone."
+
+Captain Dan slowly descended the stairs.  The elevator, of course,
+would have been quicker, but he was in no hurry.  If he must walk,
+and it seemed that he must, he might as well begin at once.  He
+descended the stairs to the ground floor of the hotel and wandered
+aimlessly about through the lobby into the billiard room, and
+finally to a plate glass door upon which was lettered the word
+"Rathskeller."
+
+What a Rathskeller might be he did not know, but, as there was
+another set of letters on the door and those spelled "Push," he
+pushed.
+
+The Rathskeller was a large room, with a bar at one end and many
+little tables scattered about.  At these tables men were eating,
+drinking and smoking.  A violin, harp and piano, played by a trio
+of Italians, were doing their worst with a popular melody.
+
+The captain looked about him, selected one of three chairs at an
+unoccupied table, and sat down.  A waiter drifted alongside.
+
+"What'll you have, sir?" inquired the waiter.
+
+"Hey?  Oh, I don't know.  Give me a cup of coffee."
+
+"Coffee?  Yes, sir.  Anything to eat?"
+
+"No, I guess not.  I've had my dinner."
+
+"Smoke?"
+
+"Well, you might bring me a ten-cent cigar."
+
+The coffee and cigar were brought.  Daniel lit the latter, took a
+sip of the former and listened to the music.  This was not taking a
+walk exactly, but, so far as leaving his wife alone was concerned,
+it answered the purpose.
+
+The room, already well tenanted, gradually filled.  Groups of men
+entered, stopped to glance at the tape of a sporting news ticker
+near the bar, exchanged a word or two with the bartenders, and then
+selected tables.  Several times the two vacant chairs at the
+captain's table were on the point of being taken, but each time the
+prospective occupants went elsewhere.
+
+At length, however, two young men, laughing and talking rather
+loudly, sauntered through the room.  One of them paused.
+
+"Here are a couple," he said, indicating the chairs.
+
+His companion, an undersized, dapper individual, whose raiment--
+suit, socks, shirt, shoes, hat and tie--might comprehensively be
+described as a symphony in brown, paused also, turned and looked at
+the chairs, then at the table, and finally at the captain.
+
+"Yes," he drawled, regarding the latter fixedly, "so I see.  Well,
+perhaps we can't do better.  This place is getting too infernally
+common, though.  Don't think I shall come here again.  If it wasn't
+that they put up the best cocktail in town I should have quit
+before.  All right, this will have to do, I suppose."
+
+He seated himself in one of the chairs.  His friend followed suit.
+The watchful waiter was on hand immediately.
+
+"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said, bowing obsequiously.
+
+Neither of the young men acknowledged the bow or the greeting,
+although it was evident that the waiter was an old acquaintance.
+The symphony in brown did not even turn his head.
+
+"Two dry Martinis," he said.  "And mind that they ARE dry.  Have
+Charlie make them himself.  If that other fellow does it I'll send
+them back."
+
+"Yes, sir.  All right, sir.  Will you have a bit of lunch with
+them, sir?  Caviare sandwich or--"
+
+"No."
+
+"Shall I bring cigars, sir?"
+
+"Lord, no!  The last I had here nearly poisoned me.  Get the
+cocktails and be lively about it."
+
+The waiter departed.  The young gentleman drew a gold cigarette
+case from his pocket.
+
+"Here you are," he drawled, proffering the case.  "Cigars!" with a
+contemptuous laugh.  "They buy their cigars by the yard, at the
+rope walk.  Fact, Monty; take my word for it."
+
+"Monty" laughed.  "That's pretty rough, Tacks," he declared.
+
+"Oh, but it's so.  You can actually smell the hemp.  Eh?  By gad,
+you can smell it now, can't you?"
+
+Captain Dan was relighting the stump of his "ten-center" which had
+gone out.  He had scarcely noticed the newcomers; his thoughts were
+far away from Scarford and the Palatine Hotel.  Now, however, he
+suddenly became aware that his tablemates were regarding him and
+the cigar with apparent amusement.  He smiled good naturedly.
+
+"Been runnin' her too low," he observed.  "Have to get up steam if
+I want to be in at the finish."
+
+This nautical remark was received with blank stares.  "Monty"
+turned his shoulder toward the speaker.  "Tacks" did not even turn;
+he continued to stare.  The arrival of the cocktails was the next
+happening of importance.
+
+"I say, Tacks," observed Monty, leaning back in his chair and
+sipping his Martini, "how are you getting on?  Made up your mind
+what to do?"
+
+"No," shortly.
+
+"Going to fight, are you?"
+
+"No use.  The confounded lawyers say I wouldn't have a show."
+
+"Humph!  Low-down trick of the old woman's, wasn't it, giving you
+the shake that way?  Everybody thought you were her pet weakness.
+We used to envy your soft snap.  Did you get the go-by altogether?"
+
+"Pretty near.  Got a little something, but it was precious little."
+
+"Can you pull through on it?"
+
+"'Twill be a devilish hard pull."
+
+"Too bad, old man.  But cheer up!  You'll come out on top.  Have
+another one of these things?"
+
+"All right."
+
+More Martinis were ordered.  "Monty" and his friend lit fresh
+cigarettes.  The former asked another question.
+
+"Who are the lucky winners?" he inquired.  "Some country cousins or
+other, I know that; but who are they?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know.  Yes, I know; but what difference does it make?"
+
+"Isn't there a girl somewhere in the crowd?"
+
+"Yes, but--"  He broke off.  Captain Dan was regarding him
+intently.
+
+"Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable, Uncle?"
+drawled "Tacks," with bland sarcasm.
+
+Daniel was taken aback.
+
+"Why," he stammered, "I--I don't know's there is."
+
+"Shall I speak a little louder?  Possibly that might help.
+Delighted to oblige, I'm sure."
+
+This was plain enough, certainly.  The captain colored.  His
+confusion increased.
+
+"I--I hope you don't think I was listenin' to you and your friend's
+talk," he protested hastily.  "I wasn't.  Why, if--if you two would
+like this table to yourself you can have it just as well as not.  I
+can go somewhere else.  You see, I was thinkin'--when you spoke to
+me--I was thinkin' there was somethin' familiar about your face.
+Seemed as if I'd seen you somewhere before, that's all; and--"
+
+The young gentleman in brown interrupted him.  "You're mistaken,"
+he said, "I was never there."  Then, turning to his friend, he
+added, with an elaborate "Josh Whitcomb" accent:  "Monty, 'taters
+must be lookin' up.  All aour folks have come to town to spend
+their money."
+
+Monty, upon whom, like his companion, the second cocktail--second
+in this particular sense--there had been others--seemed to be
+having some effect, laughed uproariously.  Even the joker himself
+deigned to smile.  Captain Dan did not smile.  He had risen,
+preparatory to leaving the table; now he slowly sat down again.
+
+"I guess I WAS mistaken," he said gravely.  "I guess you're right
+about my not havin' seen you before.  If I had I wouldn't have
+forgot where."
+
+Monty evidently thought it his turn to be funny.
+
+"You have a good memory, haven't you, Deacon?" he observed.
+
+The captain looked at him.
+
+"That don't necessarily follow, young man," he said.  "There's some
+things you CAN'T forget."
+
+There was a choking sound at the next table; a stout man there
+seemed to be having trouble in swallowing.  Those with him looked
+strangely happy, considering.
+
+"Tacks" frowned, pushed back his chair and stood up.
+
+"Come on, Monty," he growled.  "This place is going to the dogs.
+They let ANYTHING in here now."
+
+Daniel turned to the stout man and his party.
+
+"That's strange, ain't it?" he said in a tone of grave surprise.
+"I was just thinkin' that myself."
+
+Then, his cigar smoked to the bitter end, he, too, rose, and,
+declining the invitations of the stout man and his friends to have
+something "because he had earned it," he walked out of the
+Rathskeller and took the elevator to the third floor.
+
+He opened the door of the room gently and entered on tiptoe, for he
+thought it likely that Serena was taking a nap.  She was not,
+however; on the contrary, she was very wide awake.
+
+"Where have you been?" she demanded.  "I've been waiting and
+waiting for you."
+
+Daniel chuckled.
+
+"I've been down below in a place they call the Rat Cellar, or some
+such name," he said.  "The rats was there, two of 'em, anyhow.  And
+I'd met one of 'em before.  I know I have.  I wish I could think
+who he was.  A sort of--"
+
+But Serena was not listening.
+
+"Daniel," she interrupted, "it is all settled.  I have made up my
+mind."
+
+Her voice was tremulous with excitement.  Captain Dan looked at
+her.
+
+"Made up your mind?" he repeated.  "I want to know!  What about?"
+
+"About our plans and our future, Daniel; my opportunity has come,
+the opportunity I was wishing for.  It has been sent to me by
+Providence, I do believe--and it would be wicked not to take
+advantage of it.  Daniel, you and I must move to Scarford."
+
+The captain gasped.
+
+"Why--why, Serena," he faltered.  "What are you talkin' about?
+DON'T talk so!  Move to Scarford!  Give up Trumet and--"
+
+"Trumet!  Don't mention Trumet to me.  Daniel Dott, you'll never
+get me back to Trumet again--to live there, I mean--never, never,
+NEVER!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+Captain Dan said--Well, it does not matter much what he said.  He
+said a great deal, of course, during that evening and the next
+morning, and would have kept on saying it all the way to Trumet if
+his wife had not declined to listen.
+
+"It is no use, Daniel," she declared calmly but firmly.  "I have
+thought it all out and I KNOW it is the right thing for us to do.
+You will think so, too, one of these days."
+
+"Durned if I will!  I tell you, Serena--"
+
+"Hush! you're telling everybody in the car, and THAT isn't
+necessary, at any rate.  Now we won't argue any more until we get
+home.  Then you can say your say; but"--with discouraging candor--
+"it won't change my decision a single mite.  My mind is made up.  A
+higher power than you or me has settled everything for us.  We are
+going to Scarford to live, and we will go just as soon as we can
+get ready."
+
+And go they did.  The captain fought a stubborn battle,
+surprisingly stubborn and protracted for him, but he surrendered at
+last.  Serena drove him from one line of entrenchments after the
+other, and, at length, when she had him in the last ditch, where,
+argument and expostulation unavailing, he could only say, "No! no,
+I won't, I tell you!" over and over again, she used her most
+effective weapon, tears, and brought him to terms.
+
+"You don't care," she sobbed.  "You don't care for me at all.  All
+you care about is just yourself.  You're willing to stay here in
+this awful place, you're willing to plod along just as you always
+have; and it doesn't make any difference about my wishes or my
+hopes, or anything.  If you were like most husbands you'd be proud
+and glad to see me getting on in the world; you'd be glad to give
+me the chance to be somebody; you'd--"
+
+"There! there!  Serena, don't talk so.  I'd do anything in this
+world to please you."
+
+"Hush! hush!  I should think you'd be ashamed to say such things.
+I should think you'd be AFRAID to say them, afraid something would
+happen to you--you'd be struck down or something.  Oh, well!  I
+must be resigned, I suppose.  I must give in, just as I always do.
+I must be satisfied to be miserable and--and--Oh, what shall I do?
+What SHALL I do?"
+
+Sobs and more sobs, frantic clutchings at the sofa pillows and
+declarations that she had better die; it would be better for her
+and ever so much better for everyone else if she were dead.  No one
+would care.
+
+Poor Daniel, distressed and remorseful, vaguely conscious that he
+was right, but conscience stricken nevertheless, hoisted the white
+flag.
+
+"Hush, hush, Serena!" he pleaded.  "Land sakes, don't say such
+things--please don't.  I'll do anything you want, of course I will.
+I'll go to Scarford, if you say so.  I was just--"
+
+"I don't ask you to go there forever.  I never have asked that.  I
+only ask you to go there and live a while and just see how we like
+it.  That was all I asked, and you knew it.  But you won't! you
+won't!"
+
+"Why, yes I will, too.  I'll go--go next week, if you say so.  I--I
+just--"
+
+He got no further.  Mrs. Dott, wet-eyed but radiant, lifted her
+head from the sofa pillow and threw her arms about his neck.
+
+"Will you?" she cried ecstatically.  "Will you, Daniel?  I knew you
+would.  You're a dear, good man and I love you better than all the
+world.  We will be so happy.  You see if we aren't."
+
+The captain was no less doubtful of the happiness than he had ever
+been, but he tried to smile and to find comfort in the thought that
+she was happy if he was not.
+
+He had written Gertrude telling of her mother's new notion and
+asking for advice and counsel.  The reply, which came by return
+mail, did not cheer him as much as he had hoped.
+
+"It was inevitable, I suppose," Gertrude wrote.  "I expected it.
+I was almost certain that Mother would want to live in Scarford.
+Mrs. Black has been telling her all summer about society and club
+life and what she calls 'woman's opportunity,' and Mother has come
+to believe that Scarford is Paradise.  You will have to go, I
+think, Daddy dear.  Perhaps it is just as well.  Mother won't be
+satisfied until she has tried it, and perhaps, after she has tried
+it, she may be glad to come back to Trumet.  My advice is to let
+her find out for herself, but, of course, if you feel sure it is
+wrong, then you must put your foot down, say no, and stick to it.
+No one can do that for you; you must do it yourself."
+
+Which was perfectly true, as true as the other fact--namely, that
+Captain Dan could not "stick to it" in a controversy with his wife,
+having lost the sticking faculty years before.
+
+But, oddly enough, there was one point upon which he did stick and
+refused to budge:  That point was Azuba's going to Scarford with
+them.  Mrs. Ginn's attitude when she was told of the family exodus
+was a great surprise.  Serena, who broke the news to her, expected
+grief and lamentations; instead Azuba was delighted.
+
+"Well, now!" she exclaimed.  "Ain't that fine!  Ain't that
+splendid!  I always wanted to go somewhere's besides Trumet, and
+now I'm goin'.  I always told Labe, my husband, that if there was
+one thing I was jealous of him about 'twas travelin'.  'You go from
+Dan to Beersheby,' I says to him, 'any time you want to.'  'Yes,'
+says he--this was the last time he was to home, three years ago--
+'Yes,' he says, 'and when I don't want to, too.'  'And I,' I says,
+'I have to say stuck here in Trumet like a post in a rail fence.'
+'You look more like the rail, Zuby,' he says--he's always pokin'
+fun 'cause I ain't fleshy.  'Don't make no difference what I LOOK
+like,' I says, 'here I be and I ain't never been further than the
+Brockton cattle show since I was ten year old.'  But now I'm goin'
+to travel at last.  My!  I'm so tickled I don't know what to do.
+I'll start in makin' my last fall's hat over this very night.  Say,
+it's a good thing you've got me to help in the goin' and the
+settlin', ain't it, Sereny--Mrs. Dott, I mean."
+
+In the face of this superb confidence Serena, who had intended
+leaving Azuba behind, lacked the courage to mention the fact.  And
+when she sought her husband in the store and asked him to do it, he
+flatly refused.
+
+"What!" he said.  "Tell Zuba Ginn we're goin' to cast her adrift!
+I should say not!  Of course we can't do any such thing, Serena."
+
+"But what can we do with her, Daniel?  We might leave her here to
+take care of the place, I suppose, but that would only be for a
+time, until we find somebody to buy it.  Of course we can't run two
+places, and we'll have to sell this one some time or other."
+
+Daniel, to whom the idea of selling the home of which he had been
+so proud was unthinkable, ignored the question.
+
+"You couldn't leave her here," he declared.  "She wouldn't stay.
+Zuba's queer--all her tribe are and always was--but she's nobody's
+fool.  She'd know right off you were tryin' to get rid of her.  No,
+it may be all right enough to leave Nate Bangs in charge of the
+store, because he'd like nothin' better, but you can't leave Zuba
+in the house."
+
+"Then what can we do with her?"
+
+"Take her with us.  She can do housekeepin' in Scarford same as she
+can here, can't she?"
+
+"Take her with us!  Why, Daniel Dott! the very idea!  Think of
+Azuba in a place like that Scarford mansion!  Think of her and that
+dignified, polite Hapgood man together!  Think of it!"
+
+The captain seemed to find the thought amusing.
+
+"Say, that would be some fun, wouldn't it?" he chuckled.  "I'd risk
+Zuba, though.  He wouldn't do the Grand Panjandrum over her more'n
+once.  I'd risk her to hold up her end."
+
+"What do you think the B. Phelps Blacks would say if they saw Azuba
+trotting through the grand front hall with her kitchen apron on?"
+
+The mention of the name had an odd effect upon the captain.  He
+straightened in his chair.
+
+"I don't care what they say," he declared.  "I don't care what the
+Blacks would say, nor the Yellows nor the Blues either.  If they
+don't like it they can stay in their own front halls and lock the
+door.  Look here, Serena: Zuba Ginn has been with us ever since
+Gertie was born; she took care of her when she had the scarlet
+fever, set up nights and run the risk of catchin' it herself, and
+all that.  The doctor told us that if it hadn't been for Zuba and
+her care and self-sacrifice and common sense Gertie would have
+died.  She may be queer and hard to keep in her place, as you call
+it, and a regular walkin' talkin' machine, and all that.  I don't
+say she ain't.  What I do say is she's been good enough for us all
+these years and she's good enough for me now.  She ain't got any
+folks; her husband is as queer as she is, and only shows up once in
+two or three years, when he happens to think of it.  She ain't got
+any home but ours, and nobody else to turn to, and I won't cast her
+adrift just because I've got more money than I did have.  I'd be
+ASHAMED to do it.  No, sir! if Zuba Ginn wants to go to Scarford,
+along with us, she goes, or I don't go myself."
+
+He struck the desk a violent blow with his clenched fist.  Serena
+regarded him with astonishment.  It had been a long time since she
+had seen him like this, not since the old seafaring days.
+
+"Why--why, Daniel," she faltered, "I didn't mean to make you cross.
+I--I only thought. . . .  Of course, she can go with us if you feel
+that way."
+
+"That's the way I feel," said her husband shortly.  Then, as if
+suddenly awakening and with a relapse into his usual manner, he
+added, "Was I cross?  I'm real sorry, Serena.  Say, don't you want
+some candy?  Nathaniel's just openin' a new case from Boston.  Hi,
+Sam! Sam! bring me a pound box of those Eureka chocolates, will
+you?"
+
+Serena did not again suggest Azuba's remaining in Trumet.  Neither
+she nor Captain Dan referred to the subject again.  Mrs. Dott was,
+to tell the truth, just a bit frightened; she did not understand
+her husband's sudden outbreak of determination.  And yet the
+explanation was simple enough.  So long as he was the only
+sufferer, so long as only his own preferences and wishes were
+pushed aside for those of his wife or daughter, he was meekly
+passive or, at the most, but moderately rebellious; here, however,
+was an injustice--or what he considered an injustice--done to
+someone else, and he "put his foot down" for once, at least.
+
+So, upon the fateful day when, preceded by a wagonload of trunks
+and bags and boxes, the Dotts once more drove through Scarford's
+streets to the mansion which was to be their home--permanently,
+according to Serena; temporarily, so her husband hoped--Azuba
+accompanied them.  And Azuba was wildly excited and tirelessly
+voluble.  Even Captain Dan, the long-suffering, grew weary of her
+exclamations and chatter at last.
+
+"Say, Zuba," he remonstrated, "is this an all-day service you're
+givin' us?  If it is, I wish you'd take up a collection or
+somethin', for a change.  Mrs. Dott and I are gettin' sort of tired
+of the sermon."
+
+"Why--why, what do you mean?  I was only just sayin' I never see so
+many folks all at once since that time I was at the Brockton cattle
+show.  I'll bet there's a million right on this street."
+
+"I'll take the bet.  Now you start in and count 'em, and let's see
+who wins.  Count 'em to yourself, that's all I ask."
+
+Azuba, with an indignant toss of the "made-over" hat, subsided for
+the time.  But the sight of the Aunt Lavinia mansion, with Mr.
+Hapgood bowing a welcome from the steps, was too much for her.
+
+"Oh!" she burst forth.  "Oh! you don't mean to tell me THAT'S it!
+Why, it's perfectly grand!  And--and there's the minister comin' to
+call already!  Ain't it LOVELY!"
+
+That night, as they sat down for the first meal in the new abode, a
+meal cooked by Azuba and served by the light-footed, soft-spoken,
+deft-handed Hapgood, Serena voiced the exultation she felt.
+
+"There, Daniel," she observed, beaming across the table at her
+husband, "now you begin to appreciate what it means, don't you.
+NOW you begin to see the difference."
+
+Captain Dan, glancing up at the obsequious Hapgood standing at his
+elbow, hesitated.
+
+"Yes, sir?" said Mr. Hapgood anxiously.  "What is it you wish,
+sir?"
+
+"Nothin', nothin'.  Why, yes, I tell you: You go out and--and buy
+me a cigar somewhere.  Here's the money."
+
+"Cigar, sir?  Yes, sir.  What kind do you--"
+
+"Any kind; only get it quick."
+
+Then, as the door closed behind the dignified Hapgood, he added:
+
+"I've got three cigars in my pocket now, but that doesn't matter.
+I had to send him after somethin'!  Say, Serena, is it real
+necessary to have that undertaker hangin' over us ALL the time?
+Every time he looks at me I feel as if he was takin' my measure.
+Has EVERY meal got to be a funeral?"
+
+There was no doubt that the captain noticed the difference.  He
+noticed it more the following day, and more still on each
+succeeding one.
+
+The next evening the Blacks called--called in state.  A note from
+Mrs. Black, arriving by the morning's post, announced their coming.
+Serena noted the Black stationery, its quality and the gilded
+monogram, and resolved to order a supply of her own immediately.
+Also she bade her husband don his newest and best.  She did the
+same, and when Captain Dan, painfully conscious of a pair of tight
+shoes, entered the drawing-room he found her already there.
+
+"My!" he exclaimed, regarding her with admiration, "you do look
+fine, Serena.  Is that the one the Boston dressmaker made?"
+
+"Yes.  I'm glad you like it."
+
+"Couldn't help likin' it.  I can't hardly realize it's my wife
+that's got it on.  Walk around and let me take an observation.
+Whew!  I always said you looked ten years younger than you are.
+THAT rig don't spell forty-five next January, Serena."
+
+Mrs. Dott sniffed.
+
+"Don't remind me of my age, Daniel," she protested.  "It isn't
+necessary to tell everyone how old I am."
+
+"All right.  Nobody'd guess it, anyhow.  But how funny you walk.
+What makes you take such little short steps?"
+
+"I can't help it.  This dress--gown, I mean--is so tight I can
+hardly step at all."
+
+"Have to shake out a reef, won't you?  How in the world did you get
+downstairs--hop?"
+
+"Hush!  Don't be foolish.  The gown is no tighter than anyone
+else's.  It's the style, Daniel, and you and I must get used to it.
+Are those your new shoes?"
+
+"They certainly are.  Do they look as new as they feel?  I walk
+about the way you do, Serena.  Bein' in style ain't all joy, is
+it?"
+
+"It's better than being out of it.  And, Daniel, please remember
+not to say 'ain't.'  I've asked you so many times.  We have our
+opportunity now and so must improve ourselves.  You're not keeping
+store in the country any longer.  You are a man of means, living
+among cultivated society people, and you must try to behave like
+the ladies and gentlemen you will be called upon to associate
+with."
+
+"Humph!" doubtfully.  "I don't know as I could behave like a lady
+if I tried.  As for the gentleman, if you mean Barney Black--"
+
+"I mean B. Phelps Black.  Don't you dare call him Barney to-night.
+If you do I shall be SO mortified.  Hush!  Here they are.  Very
+well, Hapgood.  You may show them in."
+
+Even Serena's new gown, fine as it was and proud as she had been of
+it, lost something of its glory and sank into a modest second place
+when Annette appeared.  Mrs. Black had dressed for the occasion.
+Also, she had insisted upon her husband's dressing.
+
+"What in blazes must I climb into a dress suit for?" demanded that
+gentleman grumpily.  "Going to call on Dan Dott and his wife.  You
+don't expect Dan to be wearing a dress suit, do you?  He never wore
+one in his life."
+
+"It doesn't make any difference what he wears.  I want you to go in
+evening dress."
+
+"But, confound it, Annette, we've been calling on those people all
+summer."
+
+"THAT was in the country; this is not.  Don't you SEE, Phelps?
+Can't you understand?  Those Dotts have come here to live.  I did
+all I could to prevent it, but--"
+
+"WHAT?"  Mr. Black interrupted with an amazed protest.  "Did all
+you could to prevent it!  Why, you used to preach Scarford to
+Serena Dott from morning till night.  You were always telling her
+how much better it was than Trumet.  I don't believe she would ever
+have thought of coming here if it hadn't been for you."
+
+Annette stamped her foot impatiently.  "Don't you suppose I know
+it?" she demanded.  "That was when I never imagined there was any
+chance of their really coming.  But now they have come and we've
+got to be with them to some extent.  We've GOT to; we can't get out
+of it.  That is why I want them to see how people of our class
+dress.  I can't TELL her that her clothes are a sight, as country
+as a green pumpkin, but I can show her mine, and she's clever
+enough to understand.  And you can show her husband.  Not that that
+will do much good, I'm afraid.  HE is the real dreadful part of the
+thing.  Goodness knows what he may say or do at any time!"
+
+Phelps grinned.  Nevertheless, he donned the dress suit.
+
+Mrs. Black had another reason, one which she did not mention, for
+making this, their first, call upon the Dotts in their new home a
+ceremonial occasion.  It was true that they would be obliged to
+associate with these acquaintances from the country more or less;
+the commonest politeness required that, considering all that had
+gone before.  But she meant there should be no misunderstanding of
+the relations between the families.  In Trumet she had made Mrs.
+Dott her protegee because it was her nature to patronize, and
+Serena had not resented the patronage.  Now circumstances were
+quite different; now the Dotts possessed quite as much worldly
+wealth as the Blacks, but Annette did not intend to let Serena
+presume upon that.  No, indeed!  She intended, not only by the
+grandeur of her raiment and that of her husband, but by her
+tone and manner, to make perfectly plain the fact that the
+acquaintanceship was still a great condescension on her part and
+did not imply equality in the least.
+
+But this lofty attitude was destined to be shaken before the
+evening was over.  The first shock came at the very beginning, and
+Mr. Hapgood was responsible for it.  Annette had referred, during
+the Trumet acquaintanceship, to her "staff of servants," and had
+spoken casually of her cook and second girl and laundress and
+"man," as if the quartette were permanent fixtures in the Black
+establishment.  As a matter of fact, the only fixtures were the
+cook and second girl.  The laundress came in on Mondays and
+Tuesdays to do the washing and ironing, and the "man" acted as
+janitor's helper at the factory three days of the week.  The
+chauffeur was but a summer flourish; B. Phelps drove his own car
+eight months in the year.
+
+So when the door of the Dott mansion was opened by a butler--and
+such a dignified, polite, imposing butler--Mrs. Black's soul was
+shaken by a twinge of envy.  The second shock was Serena's
+appearance and the calm graciousness of her demeanor.  The Boston
+gown was not as grand, as prodigal of lace and embroidery, as was
+the visitor's, but it was in the latest fashion and Serena wore it
+as if she had been used to such creations all her life.  Neither
+was she overawed or flurried when her callers entered.  Serena had
+read a good deal, had observed as much as her limited opportunities
+would allow, and was naturally a clever woman in many ways.
+
+"Why, how do you do, Mrs. Black?" she said.  "It's so good of you
+to come.  And to bring Mr. Black, too.  You must take off your
+things.  Yes, you must.  Hapgood, take the lady's wraps.  Daniel!"
+
+The captain, who, not being used to butlers and lacking much of his
+wife's presence of mind, had started forward to assist with the
+wraps, stopped short.
+
+"Yes, Serena?" he faltered.
+
+"Can't you ask Mr. Black to sit down?"
+
+"Hey?  Why, course I can.  I judged he was goin' to sit down
+anyway.  Wasn't figgerin' to stand up all the evenin', was you,
+Bar--er--Phelps?"
+
+"No," replied Mr. Black.  To prove it he selected the most
+comfortable chair in the room.
+
+"I had such a time to get Phelps to come," declared Annette,
+sinking, with a rustle, into the next best chair.  "He wanted to
+see you both, of course, and to welcome you to Scarford, but he is
+SO busy and has so many engagements.  If it isn't a directors'
+meeting it is a house committee at the club, or--or something.  You
+should be thankful that your husband is not a man of affairs and
+constantly in demand.  It was a club meeting to-night, wasn't it,
+Phelps, dear?"
+
+"'Twas a stag dinner," observed Mr. Black.  "Say, Dan, I'll have to
+take you to one of 'em some time.  It's a good bunch of fellows and
+we have some of the cleverest vaudeville stunts afterward that you
+ever saw.  Last week there were a couple of coons that--"
+
+"Phelps!" Annette interrupted tartly, "you needn't go into details.
+I don't imagine Captain and Mrs. Dott will be greatly interested.
+What a charming old room this is, isn't it?  SO quaint!  Everything
+looks as if it had been here a hundred years."
+
+Before Serena could frame a reply to this back-handed compliment
+the unconscious B. Phelps removed the greater part of its sting by
+observing:
+
+"That butler of yours looks as if he had been here a thousand.  I
+felt as if George the First was opening the door for me.  He's a
+star, all right.  Did he come with the place?"
+
+Mrs. Dott explained that Hapgood was one of Aunt Lavinia's old
+servants.  "She thought the world of him.  Daniel and I feel
+perfectly safe in leaving everything to him.  Auntie found him
+somewhere abroad--working for a lord or a count or something, I
+believe--and brought him over.  He is pretty expensive, his wages,
+I mean, but he is worth it all.  Don't you think so?"
+
+Yes, Mrs. Black found it much more difficult to patronize than she
+expected, and Serena was correspondingly happy.  But the crowning
+triumph came later.  The doorbell rang, and Hapgood entered the
+drawing-room bearing a tray upon which were several cards.  He bent
+and whispered respectfully.
+
+Mrs. Dott was evidently surprised and startled.
+
+"Who?" she asked.
+
+Hapgood whispered again.
+
+Serena rose.  "Yes, of course," she said nervously.  "Yes,
+certainly.  I declare, I--"
+
+"What's up?" asked her husband, his curiosity aroused.  "Nothin'
+wrong, is there?  What's that he's bringin' you on that thing?"
+
+He referred to the cards and the tray.  His wife, who had caught a
+glimpse of Mrs. Black's face, fought down her nervousness and
+announced with dignified composure.
+
+"Some more callers, that's all, Daniel," she said.  "Oh, you
+mustn't go, Mrs. Black.  You know them, I'm sure.  I've heard you
+speak of 'em--of them often.  It's"--referring to the cards--"the
+Honorable Oscar Fenholtz and Mrs. Fenholtz.  Ask them right in,
+Hapgood.  Daniel, get up!"
+
+Daniel hurriedly obeyed orders.  Mr. Black also rose.
+
+"The Fenholtzes!" he observed in a tone of surprise.  "Say, Dan, I
+didn't know you knew them.  Annette didn't say anything about it."
+
+Annette hadn't known of it; her expression showed that.  The
+Honorable and Mrs. Fenholtz were Scarford's wealthiest citizens.
+Mr. Fenholtz was proprietor of a large brewery and was an ex-mayor.
+His wife was prominent socially; as prominent as Mrs. Black hoped
+to be some day.
+
+Hapgood reappeared, ushering in the new arrivals.  The Honorable
+Oscar was plump and florid and good-natured.  He wore a business
+suit and his shoes were not patent leathers.  Mrs. Fenholtz was
+likewise plump.  Her gown, in comparison with Annette's, or even
+Serena's, was extremely plain and old-fashioned.
+
+She hastened over to where Serena was standing and extended her
+hand.
+
+"How do you do, Mrs. Dott?" she said pleasantly.  "Welcome to
+Scarford.  You and I have never met, of course, but I used to know
+Mrs. Lavinia Dott very well indeed.  And this is Mr. Dott, I
+suppose.  How do you do?  And here is my husband.  Oscar, these are
+our new neighbors."
+
+Mr. Fenholtz and the captain shook hands.  Captain Dan felt his
+embarrassment disappearing under the influence of that hearty
+shake.
+
+"I suppose you scarcely expected callers--or calls from strangers--
+so soon," went on Mrs. Fenholtz.  "But, you see, I hope we shan't
+be strangers after this.  I couldn't bear to think of you all alone
+here in this great house in a strange place, and so I told Oscar
+that he and I must run in.  We live near here, only on the next
+corner."
+
+"I said you would be having your after-dinner smoke, Mr. Dott,"
+explained the Honorable, with a smile and a Teutonic accent.  "I
+said you would wish we was ouid instead of in; but Olga would not
+have it so.  And, when the women say yes, we don't say no.  Eh;
+what is the use?"  He chuckled.
+
+Captain Dan grinned.  "That's right," he said.  "No use for the
+fo'mast hand to contradict the skipper."
+
+Mrs. Black stepped forward.
+
+"How do you do, Mrs. Fenholtz?" she said with unction.
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed Serena.  "I--I'm forgetting everything.  But
+you know Mr. and Mrs. Black, don't you, Mrs. Fenholtz?"
+
+Mrs. Fenholtz turned.
+
+"How do you do, Mrs. Black?" she said.  Her tone lacked the
+enthusiasm of Annette's.
+
+"Hello, Black," said her husband.  "What are you doing here?  I
+thought you would be at the club, listening to the--what is it?--
+the cabaret.  Py George, my wife says I shall not go any more!  She
+says it is no place for a settled man so old as I am.  Ho! ho!  Yet
+I tell her the stag dinner is good for the beer business."
+
+Before B. Phelps could answer, Mrs. Black spoke.
+
+"He wanted to go, Mr. Fenholtz," she declared.  "But he felt, as I
+did, that our first duty was here.  Captain and Mrs. Dott are old
+friends of ours.  We meet them every year at the Cape; we have a
+summer home there, you know."
+
+Fenholtz seemed interested.  "That is so," he said.  "I forgot.
+Dott, are you one of those Cape Cod skippers they tell me about?  I
+am glad of it.  I have got a boat myself down in Narragansett Bay.
+One of those gruisin' launches, they call them.  But this one is
+like the women, it will gruise only where and when it wants to, and
+not where I want to at all.  There is something the matter with the
+engine always.  I have had egsperts--ah, those egsperts!--they are
+egsperts only in getting the money.  When they are there it will go
+beautifully; but when they have left it will not go at all.  I wish
+you could see it."
+
+Captain Dan was interested, too.
+
+"Well," he said, "I'd like to, first rate.  I've got a boat of my
+own back home; that is, I used to have her.  She was a twenty-five
+foot cat and she had a five-horsepower auxiliary in her.  I had
+consider'ble experience with that engine.  Course, I ain't what
+you'd call an expert."
+
+"I am glad of that.  Now I will explain about this drouble of
+mine."
+
+He went on to explain.  In five minutes he and the captain were
+head over heels in spark plugs and batteries and valves and
+cylinders.  Mr. Black endeavored to help out with quotations from
+his experience as a motorist, but his suggestions, not being of a
+nautical nature, were ignored for the most part.  After a time he
+lost interest and settled back in his chair.
+
+Meanwhile the three ladies were engrossed in other matters.  Mrs.
+Fenholtz asked to be shown the house; she had not seen it for a
+long time, she said, and was much interested.  Annette suddenly
+remembered that, she also was "mad" to see it.  So Serena led a
+tour of inspection, in which Mr. Hapgood officiated as assistant
+pilot and superintendent of lighting.
+
+After the tour was at an end, and just before the party descended
+to the drawing-room, Mrs. Fenholtz turned to Serena and said:
+
+"Mrs. Dott, are you interested in club matters; in women's clubs, I
+mean?"
+
+Serena's answer was a prompt one.
+
+"Indeed I am," she said.  "I have always been interested in them.
+In fact, I am president of the Trumet Chapter; that is, I was; of
+course, I resigned when I came here."
+
+Mrs. Fenholtz looked puzzled.
+
+"Trumet Chapter?" she repeated.
+
+"Why, yes, the Chapter of the Guild of the Ladies of Honor.  The
+order Mrs. Black belongs to."
+
+"Oh!" in a slightly different tone.  "Oh, yes, I see."
+
+"I'm terribly interested in THAT," declared Serena enthusiastically.
+"If you knew the hours and hours I have put in working for the
+Guild.  It is a splendid movement; don't you think so?"
+
+"Why--why, I have no doubt it is.  I don't belong to it myself.  I
+was thinking of our local club, our Scarford women's club, when I
+spoke.  I thought perhaps you might care to attend a meeting of
+that with me."
+
+"I should love--" began Serena, and stopped.
+
+Mrs. Black, who was standing behind Mrs. Fenholtz, was shaking her
+head.  The last-named lady noticed her hostess' hesitation.
+
+"But of course," she went on, "if you are interested in the Ladies
+of Honor you would no doubt prefer visiting a meeting of theirs.
+In that case Mrs. Black could help you more than I.  She is vice-
+president of the Scarford Branch, I think.  You are vice-president,
+aren't you, Mrs. Black?"
+
+Annette colored slightly.
+
+"Why--why, yes," she admitted; "I am."
+
+Serena was surprised.
+
+"Vice-president?" she repeated.  "Vice-president--I--I--must have
+made a dreadful mistake.  I introduced you as president at that
+Trumet meeting.  I certainly thought you were president."
+
+Now, as a matter of fact, if Mrs. Black had not specifically said
+that she was president of the Scarford Chapter, she had led her
+acquaintances in Trumet to infer that she was; at all events, she
+had not corrected Serena's misapprehension on the night of the
+meeting.  She hastened to do so now.
+
+"Oh, no!" she said.  "I noticed that you made a mistake when you
+introduced me, but, of course, I could hardly correct you publicly,
+and, when it was all over, I forgot.  I am only vice-president,
+just as Mrs. Fenholtz says."
+
+Mrs. Fenholtz smiled.  "Well, I am not even an officeholder in our
+club," she said, "although I was at one time.  I have no doubt you
+will prefer to be introduced by a vice-president rather than a mere
+member; and I am sure Mrs. Black is planning for you to attend one
+of the Guild meetings, so I mustn't interfere."
+
+Annette was visibly flurried.  The Scarford Chapter was the one
+subject which she had carefully avoided that evening.  But between
+it and the Woman's Club there was a bitter rivalry, and, although
+she had not been at all anxious to act as sponsor for her friend
+from the country, now that Mrs. Fenholtz had offered to do so and
+had placed the responsibility squarely on her shoulders, she could
+not dodge.
+
+"Why--why, of course," she said.  "That was understood.  We have
+had so many things to talk about this evening that I had really
+forgotten it, my dear Mrs. Dott.  I had indeed!  When," she
+hesitated, "when could you make it convenient to attend one of our
+meetings?  Of course I know how busy you are just now in your new
+home, and I shall not be unreasonable.  I shouldn't, of course,
+expect you to attend the NEXT meeting."
+
+"Oh," said the unconscious Serena, "I'm not so busy as all that.  I
+could go to the next meeting just as well as not.  I should love
+to."
+
+They entered the drawing-room, to find Captain Dan and the
+Honorable Oscar still deep in the engine discussion and Mr. Black
+sound asleep in his chair.  Roused by his indignant wife, he
+drowsily inquired if it was time to get up, and then, becoming
+aware of the realities of the situation, hastily explained that he
+had been thinking about business affairs and had forgotten where he
+was.
+
+"Going, Annette, are you?" he asked.
+
+Annette tartly observed that she was going, and added that she
+judged it high time to do so.  Mrs. Fenholtz said that she and her
+husband must be going, also.
+
+"But we shall hope to see a great deal of you and Mr.--I should say
+Captain Dott," she said.  "You must dine with us very soon.  I will
+set an evening and you mustn't say no."
+
+"That is right," said Mr. Fenholtz heartily.  "Captain, some of
+these days you and I will take a gouple of days and go down and
+look at that boat.  If she does not go then, we will put an
+'egspert' in her and sink them both.  What?"
+
+Altogether, it was a wonderful evening.  The only fly in the
+ointment was Azuba, who appeared just as the visitors were at the
+door, to announce that "that foolhead of a grocer's boy" hadn't
+brought the things she ordered and what they was going to do for
+breakfast she didn't know.
+
+"I could give you b'iled eggs," she added, "but Captain Dan'l made
+such a fuss about them we had yesterday that I didn't dast to do it
+without askin' you.  I wanted to have some picked-up fish, but they
+didn't keep none but the hashed-up kind that comes in pasteboard
+boxes, and I'd just as soon eat hay as that."
+
+On the way home Mrs. Black divided her discourse into two parts,
+one a scorching of her husband for falling asleep and making her
+ridiculous before the Fenholtzes, and the other a sort of irritated
+soliloquy concerning "those Dotts" and the way in which they had
+been loaded upon her shoulders.
+
+"I did my best to keep the Guild out of the conversation," she
+said, "but that Fenholtz woman had to drag it in, and now, of
+course, I've got to take that Dott person to the next meeting and
+introduce her to everybody, and I suppose I shall have to see that
+she is made a member.  Oh, dear!  I almost wish I had never seen
+Trumet."
+
+B. Phelps grunted.  "Humph!" he said.  "If the Fenholtzes take them
+up I don't see what you've got to kick about.  You've been trying
+to get in the Fenholtz set yourself for the last three years.
+Maybe you can do it now."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+The Scarford Chapter of the Guild of the Ladies of Honor was not as
+large a body as Mrs. Black in the exuberance of her Trumet
+conversation had led Serena to think.  In reality, its membership
+was less than a hundred.  It was formed in the beginning by a
+number of seceders from the local Women's Club, who, disappointed
+in their office-seeking ambitions and deeming the club old-
+fashioned and old-fogyish in its ideas, had elected to form an
+organization of their own.  They had affiliated with the national
+order of the Ladies of Honor, chiefly because of the opportunity
+which such a body offered for office holding and notoriety.  The
+members were not drawn from the oldest families of Scarford nor
+from those whose social position was established.  They were
+chiefly the wives and daughters of men who had made money rather
+suddenly; would-be geniuses whose genius had not been recognized as
+yet; women to whom public speaking and publicity were as the breath
+of their nostrils; extravagants and social climbers of all sorts.
+
+The purposes of the organization, outside those specified in the
+constitution of the parent body, were rather vague.  Ex-Mayor
+Fenholtz expressed a rather general opinion when he said:
+
+"The Ladies of Honor?  Sure! it is a place where the women go who
+think their husbands don't appreciate them.  If I was one of those
+husbands I should appreciate their having that place.  They might
+stay at home if they didn't.  That would be a galamity."
+
+The ladies of the Scarford Chapter made it a point to be always
+abreast of the times.  Theirs was not a suffrage organization
+because, as many of them said, the belief in suffrage was so common
+nowadays.  Their motto was "Advancement."  Just what sort of
+advancement seemed to make little difference.
+
+The next meeting--that is, the meeting to which Serena had been
+invited--was one of the few at which men were permitted to be
+present.  The Blacks called at the Dott mansion with the car, Mr.
+Black not acting as driver this time, and the journey to the hall
+was made in that vehicle.  It was not a lively journey, so Captain
+Dan thought.  He and B. Phelps occupied the folding seats facing
+the two ladies and Mr. Black maintained a gloomy silence all the
+way.  As for Annette and Serena, they talked and talked upon
+subjects miles above the head of the captain.  Mrs. Black did most
+of the talking; Serena was content to listen and pretend to
+understand.
+
+"This is to be an open meeting, Mrs. Dott," said Annette
+graciously.  "You see, we have open meetings, just as you do in
+Trumet, although I doubt if you find much resemblance between the
+two.  You'd scarcely expect that, would you?  Ha! ha!  It is a good
+thing," she added, addressing the occupants of the carriage in
+general, "for these husbands of ours to be shown occasionally what
+their wives are capable of.  Here is our Chapter building.  Phelps,
+give Mrs. Dott your arm."
+
+The Chapter building proved to be not quite up to Serena's
+expectation.  It was a building, of course, but the Chapter
+occupied only two or three rooms on the third floor, the other
+floors being occupied by offices of various sorts.  The largest
+room, that which Mrs. Black dignified by the title of "Assembly
+Hall," was partially filled when they entered.  Some sixty women of
+various ages, with a sprinkling of men among them, occupied the
+chairs on the floor.  Upon the speakers' platform half a dozen
+ladies in radiant attire were chatting volubly with another, an
+imposing creature in crimson silk, who surveyed the audience
+through a gold lorgnette, and whose general appearance reminded
+Daniel of one of the stuffed armchairs in the parlor of their new
+home.
+
+"That is Mrs. Cornish, the speaker of the evening," whispered
+Annette.  "She is one of our most brilliant members."
+
+"Yes," replied Dan'l, to whom the information had been imparted,
+and upon whom the crimson silk had made an impression; "yes, she--
+she does look sort of--sort of brilliant."
+
+"But I thought the Chapter was larger than this," said the puzzled
+Mrs. Dott.  "I thought Scarford had one of the largest Chapters."
+
+"Oh, no, not the largest, merely one of the best.  Our motto always
+has been quality not quantity.  And now will you excuse me?  They
+are waiting for me on the platform.  I will see you when the open
+meeting is over.  Phelps, find good seats for Mr. and Mrs. Dott."
+
+She bustled away to the platform.  The gloomy B. Phelps found seats
+for the guests and himself and sank heavily down beside them.
+Daniel, who had been gazing about him with curiosity, whispered a
+question.
+
+"What do they do at these things, Barney--Phelps, I mean?" he
+asked.  "Are they like lodge meetings at home?  This is my first
+trip here, you know."
+
+"Humph!" grunted his companion.  "You're in luck."
+
+"Talk, don't they?"
+
+"Talk!  Good Lord!  Say, Dan, if I get to sleep and you notice
+Annette looking this way, nudge me, that's a good fellow."
+
+He settled himself in his chair and closed his eyes.  Daniel turned
+to his wife.
+
+"Serena," he murmured.  "Say, Serena, don't you think it is a
+queer-lookin' crowd?  Seems to me I never saw such clothes or so
+many different kinds of hair.  Look at that woman's skirt.  It's
+tore all up one side."
+
+"Sshh!  Don't speak so loud.  That's the latest style."
+
+"What!  THAT?  Well, I--"
+
+"Sshh!  It's the latest style, I tell you.  Haven't you seen the
+fashion magazines?  All the new dresses are made that way."
+
+"Yours ain't."
+
+"Well, I--I'm not as young as that woman is."
+
+"You wouldn't wear a thing like that if you were as young as
+Gertie; and she wouldn't either, not if I saw it first.  I never
+saw such folks as these at Trumet."
+
+"Of course you didn't.  Trumet isn't Scarford.  We are in society
+now, Daniel.  We mustn't show our ignorance."
+
+"Humph!  I'd rather show my ignorance than--Hello, the doin's are
+goin' to commence."
+
+The Chapter president, a Mrs. Lake, advanced to the desk, smote it
+fiercely with a gavel and demanded order.  The hall, which had been
+buzzing like a colony of June bugs, gradually grew still.  Then
+Mrs. Lake opened the meeting.  She delivered a short speech.  Mrs.
+Black, in lieu of the secretary, who was absent, read the minutes.
+Then there were motions and amendments and excited calls for
+recognition from "Madam President."  It was livelier than Daniel
+had expected.
+
+But soon the woman in crimson silk was introduced.  Mrs. Cornish
+bowed in recognition of the gloved applause, and proceeded to
+talk . . . and talk . . . and talk. . . .
+
+At first Captain Dan endeavored to pay strict attention to the
+address.  Its title was "The Modern Tendency," and the tendency in
+this case seemed to be to say as much as possible about nothing in
+particular.
+
+Daniel found his attention wandering and his eyes closing.  They
+opened at intervals as the applause burst forth, but they closed
+between bursts.  The tremendous enthusiasm at the end, however,
+awoke him for good, and he remained awake until the close of the
+"open meeting," a marked contrast to Mr. Black, who slumbered to
+the finish.
+
+When it was over Annette descended from the platform and came
+hurrying to them.
+
+"How did you enjoy it, Captain Dott?" she purred.
+
+Daniel rather dubiously admitted that he guessed 'twas first rate,
+far's he could make it out.  His wife was enthusiastic; she
+affirmed that it was splendid.
+
+"I'm sure we couldn't help enjoying it, Mrs. Black," she said.
+"Everyone of us.  Didn't you enjoy it, Mr. Black?"
+
+"Sure!" replied Phelps promptly.  "Great stuff!"
+
+His wife swooped upon him like a swallow on a fly.
+
+"You?" she snorted contemptuously.  "You didn't hear a word of it.
+I only hope Mrs. Cornish wasn't watching you, as I was.  And now,"
+she added, turning to Serena, "comes the other part, the important
+part.  Captain Dott, there is to be a short business meeting in a
+few minutes, and men are, of course, excluded.  Phelps, will you
+have James drive Captain Dott home?  You had better go with him,
+and then come back again and wait for us.  Captain Dott, I am going
+to borrow your wife for a short time."
+
+Daniel, not knowing exactly what to say, said nothing.  Phelps
+seized his arm and led him down to the carriage.  The driver
+received his instructions and the homeward ride began.
+
+"I say, Barney," observed Daniel, after waiting for his escort to
+volunteer a word or two, "are all their meetings like that?"
+
+Mr. Black snorted.  "No," he declared; "some are a d----d sight
+worse."
+
+It was after eleven when Serena returned.  Her face was flushed and
+shining with excitement.  She did not wait to remove her hat, but
+rushed into the parlor where her husband sat in lonely magnificence.
+The solicitous Hapgood, who had happened in every few minutes to see
+if his employer "wished anything," had been ordered to "go aloft and
+turn in."  The tone in which the order was given made an impression
+and Hapgood had obeyed.
+
+"Oh, Daniel!" she cried.  "What do you think?  I've been made a
+member of the Chapter!"
+
+Captain Dan should perhaps have been enthusiastic.  If he was, he
+suppressed his feelings wonderfully.
+
+"Have you, Serena?" he observed.  "I want to know!"
+
+He listened while his wife dilated upon the wonderful happenings at
+the meeting and the glorious consequences which she felt sure were
+to follow.  Just before putting out the light he asked one more
+question.
+
+"That--that Mrs. Lake?" he said.  "She's a grass widow, ain't she--
+isn't she, I mean?"
+
+"Yes, what of it?"
+
+"Oh, nothing.  Only I thought you were kind of prejudiced against--
+against--"
+
+"I've had a good many prejudices, I suppose, like other people.
+But Mrs. Lake's husband was a brute; Mrs. Black told me so.  He
+must have been, for she is perfectly lovely.  I've met them all,
+and they are ALL lovely.  They're going to call and--and
+everything.  Oh, Daniel, this means so much to us!"
+
+Captain Dan turned out the gas.
+
+"Yes, Serena," he said slowly.  "I shouldn't wonder if it did."
+
+The calls began the very next afternoon.  Mrs. Black, having made
+up her mind that the taking of the Dotts under her wing was a
+necessity, made a virtue of that necessity and explained to her
+fellow members of Scarford Chapter that Serena and Daniel were
+really very nice people.  "A little countrified, of course.  You
+must expect that.  But they are very kind hearted and immensely
+wealthy--oh, immensely."  She was kind enough to add that Serena
+was quite an exceptional person and an advanced thinker,
+considering her opportunities.  "The club people were going to take
+them up, and so I felt that we should get in first," she explained.
+"If they should prove to be impossible we can drop them at any
+time, of course."
+
+In making this explanation she did not mention the Fenholtzes, and
+yet if it had not been for the call of the Honorable Oscar and his
+wife it is extremely doubtful if Serena would have become a member
+of Scarford Chapter so soon.  Also it is doubtful if the little
+dinner given by the Blacks to Mr. and Mrs. Dott would have taken
+place within the week.  At that dinner Captain Dan wore his first
+dress suit.  He bought it ready made at one of the Scarford shops
+and it fitted him remarkably well, considering.  What he could not
+do, however, was to feel at ease in it.
+
+"Good land, Serena!" he said, when the dressing was completed and
+they were about to start for the dinner, "don't pick at me so
+everlastin'ly.  Don't you suppose I know I look as stiff and
+awkward as if I'd froze?  You won't let me put my hands in my
+pockets, and all I can do is hang 'em around loose and think about
+'em, and this blessed collar is so high I can't scarcely get my
+chin over it.  I'm doin' my best, so don't keep remindin' me what I
+look like all the time."
+
+"I don't care what you say, Daniel," declared his wife.  "The
+clothes are just what you ought to wear, and if you would only
+forget them for a little while you would look all right."
+
+"But I can't forget.  I know the clothes are all right.  It's me
+that's all wrong.  My red face stickin' over the top of this collar
+looks like a fireman's shirt on a white fence.  I tell you I ain't
+used to this kind of thing.  I wasn't born to it and it don't come
+natural to me."
+
+"Neither was Mr. Black 'born to it,' but he has got used to it and
+so can you if you will try."
+
+"Oh, I'll try.  But I'm beginnin' awful late in life.  I know
+you'll be ashamed of me, Serena.  You ought to have a different
+husband."
+
+"I don't want a different one.  I wouldn't change you for anybody.
+But I do think you ought to try and help me as much as you can.  My
+chance has just come; I am only just beginning and I mean to go on
+and improve myself and our position in life all I can.  All I ask
+you to do is not to hold me back by complaining."
+
+The "little dinner" was not as little as it might have been.
+Annette had taken pains to make it as elaborate and as costly an
+affair as she could.  This was not solely on the Dotts' account.
+She had invited Mr. and Mrs. Fenholtz and the impression was to be
+made upon them, if possible.  But, unfortunately, the Fenholtzes
+did not attend.  Mrs. Fenholtz wrote that she had a prior
+engagement and sent regrets, just as she had previously done on the
+occasions of Mrs. Black's other "little" functions.
+
+However, the leading lights of Scarford Chapter attended and the
+display of gowns and coiffures was more varied and elaborate than
+at the open meeting.  Serena, seated at the right hand of B.
+Phelps, was in her glory.  She felt that at last she was in touch
+with the real thing.  Daniel, sandwiched between Annete and Mrs.
+Lake, was not as happy.  The necessity of forgetting his clothes
+and remembering his grammar was a heavy burden.  His conversation
+was limited to "Yes" and "No" and "I shouldn't wonder," and after a
+time the ladies ceased in their efforts to make him talk and
+carried on an animated dialogue across his shirt front.
+
+After dinner there was music and bridge.  Daniel was fond of music,
+but most of the songs, sung by a thin young lady with a great deal
+of hair and a decollete gown, were in a language which he did not
+understand, and the piano solos seemed to him to be made up of
+noise and gymnastics with very little melody.  He watched Serena,
+however, who, in turn, was watching Mrs. Lake and the rest; when
+they applauded, she applauded and the captain followed suit.
+
+Bridge was an unknown quantity to both of them, and they sat and
+looked on while Mrs. Black made it "without" and found fault with
+her partner when they lost.  The thin young lady, who had obliged
+with the vocal selections, asked the captain if he played "nullos."
+Daniel, who was not sure whether "nullos" was a musical instrument
+or a game, replied that he wasn't sure, but he didn't think he did;
+after which he retired into the corner to avoid further
+questioning.
+
+They reached home about two o'clock, and the captain fell sound
+asleep in the taxi and had to be shaken into consciousness when the
+machine reached the Dott door.
+
+"My soul, Serena," he said, when they were upstairs in the bedroom,
+"don't those folks ever go to bed?  There was stuff enough to eat
+at that dinner to last the average family through three meals.
+Time I had finished the ice cream I was ready to curl up like a cat
+in front of the fire; but the rest of them seemed to be just
+startin' in to be lively.  Are we goin' to keep this up very long?
+If we are, I'll have to sleep in the daytime, like a fo'mast hand
+on night lookout."
+
+"But wasn't it splendid?" explained his wife.  "Weren't they
+cultivated, brilliant people?  You and I never went to anything
+like THAT dinner before, Daniel Dott."
+
+The captain admitted that they never did.  "Could you make anything
+out of that game they were playin'?" he asked.  "What was it they
+called it?"
+
+"Bridge.  No, I couldn't, but I'm going to.  I'm going to learn it
+just as soon as I can.  Mrs. Black says everybody plays it now."
+
+Her husband chuckled.  "Those that don't play it had better not
+try," he observed.  "Judgin' from what I saw to-night, if they do
+try they get into trouble.  That Lake woman was givin' that poor
+little bald-headed fellow she was playin' with fits most of the
+time.  Whenever they won she patted herself on the back, and when
+they didn't she said it was his fault.  He ought to have 'echoed'
+or hollered back--or somethin'.  One time she put down a card and
+he put another kind of a one on it, and she glared at him and said,
+'Havin' no clubs?' and he had one that he'd forgot.  He spent the
+next ten minutes beggin' her pardon, but 'twas a good thing SHE
+didn't have a club.  She'd have used it on him if she had.  He was
+all shriveled up like a frostbitten cranberry when they got
+through."
+
+After they were in bed he said, "Serena, what was that black stuff
+they had on the toast at the beginnin' of that supper?  Looked like
+tar, but it tasted kind of salty and good."
+
+"Don't say supper, Daniel.  It was a dinner.  All city people have
+dinner at night.  That was caviar on the toast.  I've read about
+it.  It comes from Russia."
+
+Silence for a moment.  Then Captain Dan said reflectively, "Caviar?
+Caviar, eh?  I've heard of that somewhere before; where was it?
+Yes, yes, I know.  'Twas a caviar sandwich the waiter asked that
+young fellow I met in the Rat Cellar to have.  I never found out
+who that young fellow was, and yet I know I've met him somewhere
+before.  I wish I could remember where it was.  My memory is
+failin' me, I guess; must be gettin' old.  Can't you remember,
+Serena?"
+
+But his wife bade him stop talking and go to sleep.
+
+The next day there were more calls, and Serena was asked to attend
+a committee meeting as a guest.  She attended it and returned more
+full of Chapter enthusiasm than ever.  She announced that she might
+be asked to prepare a paper to be read before the Chapter, and that
+she intended to study and prepare for it.  Study and prepare she
+did, and, between dodging callers, or helping to entertain them,
+and keeping out of his wife's way while she was busy with the
+encyclopedias which she had taken from the library, the captain
+began to feel somewhat deserted.  Hapgood's company was too stately
+to be congenial, and Daniel sought refuge in the kitchen, where
+Azuba, as usual, was always ready to talk.
+
+Azuba was brimming over with the novelty of city life.  She had
+been to the theater once already since her arrival, and to the
+moving picture show three times.
+
+"Don't talk to ME," she said.  "If them pictures ain't the most
+wonderful things that ever was, then _I_ don't know.  _I_ never
+expected to see such sights--soldiers paradin', and cowboys a-
+ridin', and houses a-burnin', and Indians scalpin' 'em!  I was so
+worked up I hollered right out."
+
+"I should think you would.  An Indian scalpin' a house is enough to
+make anybody holler."
+
+"They didn't scalp the house; what sort of foolishness would that
+be--the idea!  They scalped the folks IN the house.  That is, they
+would have scalped 'em, only along come the cowboys wavin' pistols
+and hurrahin'--"
+
+"Could you hear 'em hurrah?"
+
+"No, but I could see 'em.  And the way they went for them Indians
+was a caution.  And--Oh, say, Captain Dott, there was one set of
+pictures there made me think of you.  'Twas all about some people
+that wanted to go into society.  She had a paralyzed father and
+they had a child, a real pretty girl, and, would you believe it,
+they commenced to neglect their child and go off playin' cards and
+dancin' and carousin' around, and the child was took down sick and
+the poor paralyzed grandfather--"
+
+"Grandfather?  Thought you said it was a father."
+
+"'Twas the WOMAN'S father--the child's grandfather.  Well, anyhow,
+the poor thing had to take care of it, and the nurse went to sleep
+and the father come home and found her dyin'--"
+
+"Who, the nurse?"
+
+"No, no, the child.  The nurse wa'n't sick; but the child was
+terrible sick."
+
+"What was the matter with the child; paralysis, too?"
+
+"I don't know what was the matter with it.  'Tain't likely 'twas
+paralysis.  You get me so mixed up I shan't know what I AM sayin'
+pretty soon.  Well, anyhow, what happened was that the child's
+mother and father neglected it on account their fashionable goin's-
+on, and the child up and died.  'Twas the most affectin' thing.
+There was the child a-dyin', and the mother and father cryin', and
+the old grandfather goin' all to pieces--"
+
+"All to pieces!  That's worse than paralysis.  Hold on a minute,
+Azuba!  Was all this in the picture?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And you paid to see it?"
+
+"Course I paid to see it.  They wouldn't let me in for nothin',
+'tain't likely."
+
+"Well, seems to me you've made a mistake.  If cryin' and misery is
+what you want, I don't doubt you can find a lot of funerals to go
+to for nothin'.  But what was there about all this mess of horrors
+that made you think of me?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know, unless the way you and Mrs. Dott are goin' in
+for society in Scarford.  Course your child is grown up, so that's
+different, though, ain't it?"
+
+"Yes, and there isn't any paralysis in the family, so far as I
+know.  That's a mercy.  Don't you get paralysis, Azuba.  If you do,
+it will take you longer to get breakfast than it does now."
+
+"That's all right.  You ought to be thankful you've got me to get
+breakfast.  If I wa'n't here you'd have to get it yourself, I
+cal'late.  Your wife's too busy these days, and that Hapgood man
+wouldn't do it.  I know that."
+
+Relations between the butler and Azuba were already somewhat
+strained.  He considered her a rude and interfering person and she
+considered that he would bear watching.
+
+"He's always recommendin' folks for us to trade with," she told
+Captain Dan.  "What business is it to him who we trade with?--
+unless he gets a little somethin' for himself out of it.  He won't
+do it more than once--not if I catch him at it.  Don't talk to me
+about that Hapgood!  I wouldn't trust one of them foreigners,
+anyhow."
+
+The invitation to dine with the Fenholtzes came about a week after
+the dinner at the Blacks'.  Daniel, who opened the letter
+containing the invitation, was very much pleased.  He liked the
+Fenholtzes at first sight and felt sure he should like them better
+on further acquaintance.  But when Serena came back from the lodge
+meeting--the first regular meeting which she had attended since
+becoming a member--she received the news rather coldly.
+
+"When is it they want us?" she said.  "Next Tuesday night?  Well,
+we could go, I suppose, but I don't believe we shall.  Mrs. Lake
+said something about coming around that evening to help me read my
+paper and criticise it."
+
+The captain was surprised and troubled.  "She could come some other
+time, couldn't she?  I think 'twas real kind of the Fenholtzes to
+ask us.  Seems to me we ought to go.  You and I haven't even been
+to pay back that call yet."
+
+"I know it.  I've meant to, but I've been so busy.  Besides, I
+don't know whether it is worth while or not.  The Fenholtzes have
+got a great deal of money, but all the Chapter people say they are
+sort of back numbers."
+
+However, she decided to accept the invitation, and they went in
+state.  But the state was largely on their part.  The dinner was a
+very simple affair compared to the elaborate spread of the Blacks,
+and the two or three people whom they met were quite different from
+Mrs. Lake and her friends.  Captain Dan enjoyed himself hugely.  He
+sat next to Mrs. Fenholtz at the table, and her quiet conversation
+on every-day subjects he could understand.  Before the dinner was
+over he was thoroughly at ease, and when later on, in company with
+the Honorable Oscar and the male guests, he sat smoking in the
+library, he found himself spinning yarns and joking as freely as if
+he had been in the back room of the Metropolitan Store in Trumet.
+The shouts of laughter from the library could be heard in the
+parlor, and Serena grew nervous.
+
+"Your husband must be very entertaining," said Mrs. Fenholtz.  "I
+haven't heard Mr. Fenholtz laugh so heartily in a long time."
+
+Mrs. Dott was fearful that Daniel might be making himself
+ridiculous.  She didn't mention her fears.  Her own remarks were
+delivered with a great deal of dignity, and she quoted Mrs. Black
+and the encyclopedia often.  On the way home she took her husband
+to task.
+
+"What in the world were you talking about with those men?" she
+demanded.  "I never heard such a noise as they made.  I do hope you
+didn't forget yourself."
+
+The captain rubbed his chin.  "I don't know but what I did forget
+myself, Serena," he replied.  "I know I had a good time and never
+thought about my clothes after the first ten minutes.  Could you
+hear 'em laughin'?  I was tellin' em' about Azuba's goin' to the
+movin' pictures then."
+
+His wife was shocked.  "And Azuba is our cook," she said, "and they
+know it.  I don't know what sort of servants they think we have.
+They must think you're pretty familiar with them."
+
+"Good land, Serena!  I've been familiar with Zuba all my life.  If
+I was to put on airs with her she'd take me down in a hurry."
+
+Mrs. Dott sighed.  "I'm afraid you did forget yourself," she
+declared.  "I think if you could hear what the Fenholtzes are
+saying about us now you'd be ashamed.  I'm sure I should."
+
+And at that very moment Mr. Fenholtz was saying:  "That man Dott is
+all right.  I have not laughed so for years.  And he has common
+sense, too.  I like him."
+
+His wife nodded.  "So do I," she said; "and I think I should like
+Mrs. Dott, too, if she had not been spoiled by Annette Black and
+the rest of those foolish women she associates with.  I don't mean
+to say that Mrs. Dott is completely spoiled yet, but she will be
+soon, I'm afraid, unless I can make her realize that she is
+beginning all wrong here in Scarford.  If she could only have gone
+to the Woman's Club first I think she might understand, but now I'm
+afraid it's too late."
+
+At the next meeting of the Chapter Serena read her paper.  She
+mounted the platform with fear and trembling.  She left it exalted
+and triumphant.  The paper had been applauded and she had been
+congratulated by her fellow members.  Annette was enthusiastic and
+Mrs. Lake and the other leaders equally so.  Stories of the "vast"
+wealth inherited by the Dotts had been circulated freely, and
+these, quite as much as the wonderful paper, were responsible for
+Serena's bound into popularity.
+
+But the popularity was there, and the unconscious Serena believed
+it to be real.  That meeting was the beginning of her obsession.
+Thereafter she talked chapter and society and opportunity and
+advancement, and ate them and drank them, too--at least the meals--
+those at home--seemed to the captain to be made up of very little
+else.  Their evenings alone together became few and fewer.  When
+they were not entertaining callers they were calling.  Captain Dan
+actually began to feel at home in his evening clothes; a good deal
+more than he did in his night clothes, so he told his wife.
+Breakfast, which, in the beginning of their Scarford residence, had
+been served at seven-thirty, was now an hour later, and even then
+Daniel frequently ate alone.
+
+Then came the reception idea.  Annette--she and Mrs. Dott were
+calling each other by their Christian names now--had dropped the
+hint concerning it.  She had said that a good way in which to repay
+social obligations was by doing it all at once, by giving a dinner,
+or reception, or a tea, to which everyone should be invited.
+Serena decided that the reception was perhaps the better, all
+things considered.  And so preparations for the reception began.
+There was to be a collation, and when this item of information was
+imparted to Azuba the kitchen became a maelstrom of activity in
+which Captain Daniel could no longer find rest and refuge.
+
+"But, Zuba," he remonstrated, "what do you think's comin' here; a
+drove of hyenas?  You've cooked enough already to victual a ship
+halfway across the ocean.  These folks eat sometimes at home.  You
+don't think they're comin' here to make up for six months'
+starvation, do you?"
+
+"Don't talk to me!" was all the satisfaction he got.  "I've heard
+about what they had to eat over there at Barney Black's, and I
+don't mean for folks to say that they went hungry when they come
+here.  Don't say another word.  I don't know now whether it was a
+cup full of sugar or a pinch of salt I put in, or the other way
+'round.  Cookin'!  Don't talk to ME."
+
+The captain found it practically impossible to talk to anybody.
+Hapgood was busy; Serena was busier, and Azuba was busiest of all.
+Wherever he went he seemed to be in the way, and when he fled for
+walks up and down the streets the crowds of strange faces made him
+feel lonelier than ever.  On the evening before that upon which the
+reception was to be held he returned from one of these walks to
+find Serena in tears.
+
+"Why, good gracious sakes!" he exclaimed.  "What's the matter?"
+
+"Matter!" sobbed his wife.  "Oh, dear me!  Everything is the
+matter!  I'm so tired I don't know what to do, and Annette and Mrs.
+Lake were coming here to-morrow to help me, and now they can't
+come.  They'll be at the reception, of course, but they can't come
+before; and there's so much to get ready and I don't know whether
+I'm doing it right or not.  What SHALL I do!"
+
+Daniel shook his head.  "Seems to me I'd do the best I could and
+let it go at that," he advised.  "If they ain't satisfied I'd let
+'em stay the other way.  I wish I could help you, but I don't know
+how."
+
+"Of course you don't.  You don't have any sympathy for the whole
+thing, and I know it.  I feel it all the time.  You haven't any
+sympathy for ME."
+
+The captain sighed.  He had a vague feeling that he could use a
+little sympathy himself, but with characteristic unselfishness he
+put that idea from his mind.
+
+"I guess what you need is a manager," he said.  "Somebody that's
+used to these sort of things that could help you out.  I wish I
+knew where there was one."
+
+Hapgood appeared and announced that dinner was served.  Serena
+hurriedly dried her eyes and they descended to the dining-room.
+Just as they were about to take their seats at the table the
+doorbell rang.  Hapgood left the room and returned a few moments
+later bearing a card on a tray.  Serena took the card, looked at
+it, and then at her husband.  Her face expressed astonishment and
+dismay.
+
+"Why, Daniel!" she exclaimed under her breath.  "Why, Daniel!  WHO
+do you suppose is here?"
+
+Her husband announced that he didn't know.  He took the card from
+her hand and looked at it.  It was a very simple but very correct
+card, and upon it in old English script was the name "Mr. Percy
+Hungerford."
+
+Daniel's face reflected the astonishment upon his wife's.
+
+"My soul!" he muttered.  "Percy Hungerford!  Why, that's--that's
+the cousin; the one Aunt Laviny cut out of her will; the one that
+would have had all this place and all the money if we hadn't got
+it.  I thought he was in New York somewhere.  Black said he was,
+and now he's here.  What in the world does he want?"
+
+Mrs. Dott rose.  "I don't know," she gasped.  "I can't imagine.
+But I suppose we must see him.  We've got to.  Did you ask him to
+wait, Hapgood?"
+
+Hapgood bowed respectfully.  "Mr. Hungerford is in the drawing-
+room, ma'am," he said.
+
+To the drawing-room moved Serena, followed by her husband.
+
+"Good evening, Mr. Hungerford," said the lady, with a partially
+successful attempt at calmness.  "How do you do?  My husband
+and I--"
+
+She paused.  The expression on Mr. Hungerford's face was an odd
+one.  She turned to Daniel, and his expression was odder still.  He
+was standing in the doorway gazing at the visitor, his eyes opening
+wider and wider.
+
+Mr. Percy Hungerford was the young man whom his friend had
+addressed as "Tacks," the young man with whom Captain Dan had
+exchanged repartee in the Rathskeller of the Palatine Hotel.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Of the two men, Mr. Hungerford was the first to recover presence of
+mind.  Presence of mind was one of the qualities upon which he
+prided himself, and it was a very awkward situation to which he
+could not rise.  For just an instant the color rushed to his cheeks
+as he recognized the captain and saw that the latter recognized
+him.  Then:
+
+"Why, how do you do, Captain Dott?" he said.  "By Jove, this is
+extraordinary, isn't it!  Strange that relatives shouldn't know
+each other when they meet.  How do you do?"
+
+He stepped forward with extended hand.  Captain Dan, who had
+expected almost anything but this bland cordiality, scarcely knew
+what to say or do.  He took the proffered hand mechanically and
+dropped it again.
+
+"Well!" he stammered.  "Well!--I declare I--I didn't expect to--"
+
+He paused.  Mrs. Dott, who had been watching this scene in
+bewilderment, spoke before he could finish his sentence.
+
+"Why, what is it?" she asked.  "Have you--"
+
+Mr. Hungerford smiled.  "Your husband and I have met before," he
+explained.  "Just a casual meeting and we weren't aware of each
+other's identity.  I'm afraid I was not as cordial as I might have
+been on that occasion, Captain.  I was a bit tired and rather out
+of sorts.  I hope you'll forgive me, I'm sure."
+
+Daniel hesitated; then he smiled.
+
+"Why, I guess I can forgive my half if you can yours," he said
+slowly.
+
+Before the puzzled Serena could ask another question the visitor
+turned to her.
+
+"I'm sure you must be very much surprised to see me here," he said.
+"I'm somewhat surprised to be here myself.  I've spent a greater
+part of the past month in New York and have only just returned--
+that is, to stay.  I fully intended to call before, and should if I
+had been in town.  How are you getting on?  How do you like the
+dear old place?  Ah!" with a sigh, as he seated himself and looked
+about him, "how familiar it all seems!"
+
+The Dotts looked at each other.  Serena sank into a chair.  Captain
+Dan remained standing.
+
+"Does it?" said the former rather feebly.
+
+"Indeed it does.  One almost expects to see Auntie coming in at the
+door.  Dear old Auntie!  I can scarcely realize that she has gone."
+
+Again Serena looked at Daniel and he at her.  This was so strange,
+so different from the attitude which a disappointed legatee might
+be expected to assume that neither of the pair knew exactly how to
+reply.  But Mr. Hungerford did not appear to notice the look or the
+hesitation.
+
+"This house seems like home to me," he said.  "I've spent so many
+happy hours here.  When old Hapgood opened the door for me I almost
+ordered him to take my bags to my room.  Really I did.  That would
+have been droll, wouldn't it?"
+
+He laughed languidly.  Serena admitted that it would have been
+droll.  Captain Dan remained silent as before.
+
+"Are--are you stopping at the hotel?" queried Mrs. Dott.
+
+"Not yet.  In fact, I'm not really stopping anywhere.  I've just
+arrived.  I must be hurrying back to dinner, I suppose, but I
+couldn't resist coming here first.  It seemed the natural thing to
+do."
+
+Voices were heard in the hall.  One of the voices was Azuba's; she
+was informing Mr. Hapgood that if that soup didn't go back on the
+stove pretty soon it might just as well be on ice.  The words were
+distinctly audible, and Serena colored.  Mr. Hungerford rose.
+
+"I'm sure I must be keeping you from your own dinner," he said.
+"Don't let me do that for the world."
+
+"Why--why--" faltered Serena.  She looked appealingly at Daniel,
+and the latter's instinctive hospitality asserted itself.  He had
+disliked the young man "Tacks" when he met him in the Rathskeller.
+Now that "Tacks" had become Mr. Percy Hungerford, Aunt Lavinia's
+cousin and his own distant relative, the dislike was only partially
+abated.  But to turn him away from the door hungry seemed wrong
+somehow.
+
+"Hadn't you better--" he began.
+
+"Have dinner with us?" finished his wife.
+
+Mr. Hungerford protested.
+
+"Oh, I couldn't think of it," he declared.  "No doubt you have
+guests--"
+
+"Oh, no, we haven't.  We're all alone and it would be no trouble at
+all.  We should like to have you stay.  Shouldn't we, Daniel?"
+
+"Sartin, no trouble at all," said Daniel heartily.  "Like to have
+you first rate."
+
+"Well, if you insist.  It is a frightful imposition--I shouldn't
+think of it, of course, but--well, thank you so much."
+
+So Hapgood received orders to lay another plate, and Mr.
+Hungerford, still murmuring protests, suffered himself to be
+conducted to the dining-room.
+
+All through the meal the captain regarded him with puzzled
+curiosity.  That he had come to the house merely for a friendly
+call he could scarcely believe.  He had heard little or nothing of
+the conversation between Hungerford and his friend at the table in
+the Rathskeller, and yet the attitude of the former on that
+occasion had not indicated a temperament likely to forgive "dear
+Aunt Lavinia" so freely or to display such angelic cordiality
+toward those who had come into possession of her property.  But the
+cordiality remained unchanged, and the visitor, so far from bearing
+a grudge toward his more fortunate relatives, continued to treat
+them as though they were near and dear friends, and do everything
+in his power to relieve their constraint and to make himself
+agreeable.  The dinner ended and they adjourned to the drawing-
+room, with Captain Dan's mental question "What in the world is this
+young chap really up to?" still unanswered.
+
+Serena had asked herself that same question when the caller first
+came, but now she was beginning to be ashamed of her suspicions and
+to think them unfounded.  Mr. Hungerford was agreeable; there was
+no doubt of that.  Also he was good-looking, in an effeminate sort
+of way, and his conversation was fluent and cultured.  He led
+Serena into speaking of the Chapter and her work there, and he
+displayed a knowledge of and an interest in that Chapter and its
+members which was very gratifying.
+
+The coming reception was mentioned, and the visitor's interest in
+that was more gratifying still.  It was evident that receptions and
+society functions generally were matters of every day, or every
+night, occurrence to him.  He asked Mrs. Dott who was to assist her
+in receiving, and when she answered the question his approval of
+the selections was unqualified.  He suggested one or two little
+ideas which he said might add to making the affair a success.
+Serena welcomed the suggestions as a starving man might welcome a
+meal.
+
+"That'll be lovely," she said, "and we can do it just as well as
+not.  And I had thought of having some bridge or something
+afterwards; but Annette--Mrs. Black, I mean--didn't seem to think
+bridge would be just the thing after a reception.  And there's
+music; I know we really ought to have music, and I had meant to
+have somebody play the piano.  But the woman I wanted can't come,
+and now I don't know what to do.  What would you think about that,
+Mr. Hungerford?"
+
+Mr. Hungerford suggested hiring one or two professional musicians.
+"A violinist, or harpist, or both, perhaps," he said.  "Music is
+always, as you say, a great addition to such affairs, Mrs. Dott.  I
+happen to know of a young fellow who plays exceptionally well, and
+his sister is really a very accomplished performer on the harp.  Of
+course they should be engaged in merely a professional capacity.
+They are not persons who would mingle with our set, but they're not
+at all objectionable, really."
+
+The diplomatic phrasing of this remark had its effect.  It
+indicated that Mrs. Dott's "set" was an exclusive one and,
+incidentally, that the accomplished and polished Mr. Hungerford
+considered his host and hostess as social equals.
+
+"There!" exclaimed Serena.  "I think that will be just fine.  And
+you are the first one, Mr. Hungerford, to think of it.  Do you
+suppose you could get these--these--er--persons you speak of to
+come and play for us?"
+
+"I think so.  I have befriended the young man in various ways, and
+he is, if you will excuse my saying so, under some obligations to
+me.  I should be glad to make the attempt if you wish it, Mrs.
+Dott."
+
+"Cost somethin', won't it?" observed Captain Dan casually.  Mr.
+Hungerford regarded him with well-bred surprise.
+
+"Why, of course," he said, "there will be some expense.  I think
+fifty dollars will cover the bill.  The usual rate for musicians of
+their class is somewhat higher."
+
+There was no doubt that the captain was surprised.  "Fifty
+DOLLARS!" he repeated.  "Why--"
+
+His wife interrupted.  "That will be all right, Mr. Hungerford,"
+she said.  "That will be quite satisfactory."
+
+"Of course, there are many whom you can obtain for less, and, if
+you feel that that figure is too high, I shall be glad to try
+elsewhere.  I have had little experience outside of the best, but--
+"
+
+Serena interrupted again.  "We don't want anybody but the best,"
+she declared, emphatically.  "Be still, Daniel.  This isn't
+Trumet."
+
+Daniel drew a long breath.  "There ain't much doubt of that," he
+observed.  "But, all right, Serena, if you and Mr. Hungerford think
+it's all right, I guess it is.  I'm more used to hirin' sailors
+than I am folks to play the harp."
+
+"Music," went on Mr. Hungerford, "is almost a necessity, in these
+days, when everyone dances.  Is this a formal reception, or had you
+intended clearing a floor for dancing, Mrs. Dott?"
+
+Mrs. Dott had not intended any such thing; she had not thought of
+it.  But she concealed the fact from her visitor with remarkable
+presence of mind.
+
+"Oh, of course!" she said.
+
+The conversation continued, a conversation limited to Mr.
+Hungerford and his hostess, while Captain Dan remained a silent and
+amazed listener.  The young gentleman was invited to attend the
+reception, Serena making many apologies for the informality of the
+invitation, and the guest expressing himself as delighted.
+
+"Of course," he said, "I wouldn't intrude for the world, but I
+don't feel like an intruder in this house, where I have spent so
+many happy hours.  Feeling as I do, I'm going to make another
+suggestion which, under different circumstances, might be
+considered an impertinence.  I am at leisure to-morrow--in fact,
+all this week--and if there is anything that I can do to help you
+and Cousin Daniel, in this matter of the reception or any other, I
+shall be at your service.  I do hope you will permit me to help and
+that you will not consider me presuming in offering to do so."
+
+It was quite evident that the offer was very welcome.  Mrs. Dott
+accepted it with enthusiasm and called upon her husband to confirm
+the acceptance.  He did so, but with less warmth, and it was agreed
+that the obliging Mr. Hungerford should drop in the next morning
+after calling upon his protege, the violinist.  A half hour later
+he said "Good-night," and departed.
+
+"There!" said Serena.  "If that isn't Providence, then I don't
+know.  And it only goes to show how one person can misjudge another
+without knowing anything about him.  I've always had a prejudice
+against that Mr. Hungerford simply because of what you told me of
+meeting him years ago, and now I don't think I ever met a kinder,
+nicer young man.  Did you, Daniel?"
+
+The captain hesitated.  "I--I," he stammered, "well, Serena, I will
+give in that he seemed nice and obligin' enough to-night, but you
+see there's just one thing that--"
+
+Serena turned on him.  "Yes, I know," she said.  "There's always
+'one thing' about everybody that _I_ like.  He's smart and bright
+and well dressed and polite.  He's a gentleman! and a different
+kind from any that we've ever met.  That makes YOU suspicious, of
+course."
+
+"Now you know it isn't that; but--but--"
+
+"But what?"
+
+There was more hesitation on the captain's part.  He had intended
+to tell of the meeting at the Rathskeller; then he remembered the
+young man's explanation and apology and thought better of it.  He
+and "Cousin Percy" might have another interview on the morrow.
+Meanwhile, he would keep still, particularly as his wife seemed to
+have forgotten their caller's reference to the meeting.  He
+finished his sentence in another way.
+
+"But I don't see what he came here for," he said.
+
+"He came here to see us.  And, I think, considering how he was
+treated in Aunt Lavinia's will, it was awfully nice of him to come
+at all.  And, as for helping me out on that reception, he's been a
+perfect godsend already.  I should THINK you would appreciate it."
+
+Before the next day was over, and long before the first of the
+evening's guests arrived, the services of the new-found friend of
+the family were appreciated even by the reluctant Daniel.  Mr.
+Hungerford came early and proceeded immediately to make himself
+useful.  He had seen the violinist, and the latter and his sister
+had promised to be on hand.  He took Hapgood in charge and
+superintended the arranging of the drawing-room and the library for
+the reception and the dancing.  When the messenger from the florist
+came with the flowers which Serena, acting upon the suggestion of
+Mrs. Lake and Mrs. Black, had ordered, he saw that they were placed
+in exactly the right positions for effect.  Being urged to stay for
+lunch, he stayed.  And his conversation during the meal was so
+fluent, so aristocratic in flavor, and yet so friendly, that Serena
+became more and more taken with him.  With the captain he was not
+quite as much at his ease.  But he did his best to be agreeable,
+and Daniel, still vaguely suspicious, found nothing tangible upon
+which to base distrust.  There was so much to be done in the
+afternoon that, acting upon a hint so delicate that it could
+scarcely be called a hint, Mrs. Dott urged him to send to the hotel
+for his bag and stay at their home overnight.  He accepted and was
+even busier than he had been during the forenoon session.  He was
+never so busy as to perform manual labor with his own hands--he
+never stooped to that extent--but he managed to convey the
+impression of being always ready and always helpful.
+
+To say that Mrs. Black and Mrs. Lake were, upon their arrival,
+surprised to find him there would be expressing their feelings far
+too mildly.  They knew Mr. Hungerford, but, heretofore, that
+gentleman had moved in circles other than their own.  It is true
+that he belonged to the same club as did Mr. Black, but Mr.
+Hungerford's friends had been younger, the ultra-fashionable set,
+the set which Annette had characterized as "rather fast" but which,
+because of its money and society connections, she secretly envied.
+To find him here, an associate and friend of the people she had
+called "countrified," was most astonishing.  She wondered, but
+she could not help being impressed, and her attitude toward her
+dear friend Serena was never so gushingly cordial.  As for
+Mr. Hungerford, he greeted the Chapter representatives with
+condescending urbanity.  When the reception began, somehow or
+other, Cousin Percy was in the receiving line.
+
+Captain Dan, uncomfortably starched and broad-clothed, received
+likewise, but his remarks to those who pressed his hand and
+murmured compliments were rather commonplace and very much alike;
+this consisted principally of "How d'ye do's" and "Glad to see
+you's"; and it was only when the Honorable and Mrs. Fenholtz came
+that he appeared to remember anything else.  It was evident that
+Mr. and Mrs. Fenholtz were as surprised as the rest to see Mr.
+Hungerford there.  The Honorable, seizing an opportunity when the
+captain was for a moment alone, whispered in his ear.
+
+"Where did he come from?" he asked, with a jerk of the head in
+Cousin Percy's direction.
+
+"Him?" replied Daniel.  "Oh, he came last night."
+
+"Is that so?  Is he a friend of yours?"
+
+"Well, he ain't--isn't exactly a friend, I guess.  He's a sort of
+relation, a nephew of Aunt Laviny's."
+
+"Oh, oh, I see--I see."
+
+There was something in the tone which caused Captain Dan to ask a
+question in return.
+
+"Know him, do you?" he inquired.
+
+"Yes, I know him, but--it is all right, Olga; I'm coming."
+
+He passed on to make room for another assortment of new arrivals,
+lady members of the Chapter, and Daniel's curiosity remained
+unsatisfied.
+
+After the reception proper, came a social and, to Daniel, very
+uncomfortable hour, and then Mr. Hungerford, who seemed to have
+taken upon himself the position of master of ceremonies, suggested
+dancing.
+
+Of all the captain's society experiences so far, this was the most
+amazing.  He had danced in his younger days, it is true, but his
+were dances of quite another variety.  Quadrilles and Virginia
+reels he was acquainted with, but tangos and Bostons and all the
+infinite varieties of the one-step were to him revelations, and
+revelations of a kind which caused him to gasp.  He saw middle-aged
+matrons dipping and hopping and twisting about the room in company
+with middle-aged, stout, red-faced men who looked as if on the
+verge of apoplexy.  He saw Mr. Hungerford laboring dutifully to
+pilot a woman of forty through the sinuosities of the "hesitation
+waltz," and when the lady, who was inclined toward plumpness, had
+collapsed into an armchair, he sought out her late partner and
+vented his feelings.
+
+"For the land sakes!" he demanded; "what did you do that for?"
+
+"Do what?" inquired Mr. Hungerford, himself as fresh and unwilted
+as an Easter lily.
+
+"Why, that--to her.  Look at her, she's pretty nigh gone!  She
+ain't caught more than two breaths in the last minute and a half.
+I've been watchin' her."
+
+Cousin Percy condescended to smile.  "It's her own fault," he
+observed.  "She said she was dying to learn the 'hesitation' and
+asked me to teach it to her."
+
+"Well, she ought to be satisfied.  If she was dyin' before, she's
+pretty near dead now.  Why didn't you stop sooner?  She all but
+capsized a dozen times in the last two or three turns you and she
+took around the room."
+
+Percy's smile became broader.  "That is all part of the dance," he
+explained.  "Watch this couple here."
+
+Daniel watched as directed.  The couple were a young man and a girl
+about Gertrude's age.  They were doing the "hesitation" with the
+hesitancy emphasized.
+
+"My soul!" muttered the captain.  "Where's that girl's mother?
+Somebody ought to tell her."
+
+Hungerford smiled once more.  "That was her mother I was dancing
+with," he said.
+
+"Good Lord!" exclaimed Daniel.  It was the only comment he made.
+He watched the rest of the dancing in silence.
+
+The collation followed the dancing, and Azuba and Mr. Hapgood
+served it, assisted by four waiters who, at Mr. Hungerford's
+suggestion, had been hired for the occasion.  The butler's serving
+was done with grace and elegance, not to mention dignity.  Azuba
+served as if the main object to be attained was to provide each
+guest with as much food as possible in the shortest possible time.
+She was arrayed in a new black gown, worn under protest, for her
+own idea had been to wear her Sunday dress, a vivid purple, with
+trimmings which, for color and variety, looked "like a patchwork
+tidy," as Captain Dan expressed it.  Also, under still greater
+protest, she wore a white apron and cap.
+
+"I feel like my grandmother doin' dishes," Azuba declared when Mrs.
+Dott brought the cap and apron to her and insisted on a dress
+rehearsal.  "The old woman lived to be ninety-five and wore a cap
+for all the world like this one for thirty year.  She had some
+excuse for wearin' it--it hid the place where her hair was thin on
+top.  But I ain't bald and I ain't ninety-five neither.  And why in
+the world you want me to put an apron on in the parlor, _I_ don't
+see.  You've been preachin' at me to leave one off till I was just
+rememberin' to do it, and now you want me to put it on again."
+
+"Not this kind of an apron, Azuba.  Mrs. Black's maids wear aprons
+like that, and so do Mrs. Fenholtz's.  It's the proper thing and I
+expect you to do it."
+
+"Humph!  All right.  Land knows I don't want to be improper.  But
+I'd just like to ask you this:  Does that Fenholtz hired help have
+to wear black clothes like this dress?"
+
+"Yes, always."
+
+"Well, then I suppose I'll have to do the same, but I hope they
+don't feel as much like bein' in mournin' as I do.  I thought this
+reception thing was supposed to be a good time, but when I looked
+at myself in the glass just now, all I could think of was the
+Trumet post-office draped up for President McKinley's funeral.  I
+suppose it's style, so it'll have to be.  But if Labe, my husband,
+should see me now, he'd have a shock, I guess.  Cal'late he'd think
+he was dead and I'd got word of it afore he did."
+
+But the food was good and the guests seemed to enjoy it.  Some of
+them seemed to enjoy Azuba, and Mr. Fenholtz was observed by the
+indignant Serena to laugh heartily every time the transformed maid-
+of-all-work addressed him.
+
+As they were leaving he said to Captain Dan:  "Captain, that maid
+of yours is a wonder.  If you ever want to get rid of her, let me
+know.  I thought Mrs. Fenholtz and I had tried every variety of
+servant, but she is something fresh."
+
+Daniel grinned.  "She's fresh enough, if that's all you want," he
+admitted.  "That's the main trouble with her, accordin' to my wife.
+I like her myself.  She reminds me of home."
+
+The Honorable shook his hand.  "Home is a good thing to remember,"
+he said earnestly, "and a bedder thing not to be ashamed of.  You
+are not ashamed of your home and you do not forget it.  That is why
+I like you.  Good night!"
+
+Somehow this remark pleased the captain greatly, but when he
+repeated it to Serena, she did not seem pleased.
+
+"I don't know what we shall do with that Azuba," she said.  "She
+mortifies me to death, and yet you won't let me get rid of her."
+
+Her husband did not answer.  In the matter of Azuba he was as
+determined as ever.  Amid the new life into which he had been
+thrown, head over heels, the housekeeper was the one familiar
+substantial upon which he could rely.  He was used to her, her
+conversation, and her ways.  As he had said, she reminded him of
+home, his real home, the home from which he was drifting further
+and further every day.
+
+Next morning Serena was suffering from headache and had breakfast
+in her room.  Mr. Hungerford, also, did not descend to the morning
+meal.  Daniel wrote a long letter to Gertrude, describing the
+reception, after his own fashion, but taking care to seem as
+cheerful as ever.  He did not feel cheerful, but there was nothing
+to be gained by troubling his daughter, as he reasoned.
+
+Mr. Hungerford remained through that day and the next day and the
+next.  At the end of that time he sent for his trunks and settled
+down to make the Dott house his home, for "a short season," he
+said.  This, of course, was done only after much protest on his
+part and strenuous urging on the part of Serena.  Cousin Percy had
+taken her fancy at the very beginning of their acquaintance, and
+his conduct since then had strengthened that liking tremendously.
+
+"Of course he can stay," she said in conversation with her husband.
+"Why, Daniel, I don't know what I should do without him.  His
+coming was a special Providence, just as I told you.  Just see how
+he helped at that reception.  It would never have been the success
+it was if it hadn't been for him.  And see how he's helped me
+since.  He knows just what is right and proper for people in our
+station to do; he's been in society all his life.  He's educated
+and he has helped me with my paper for the next meeting of the
+Chapter so much already.  There's no reason why he can't be here;
+we've got plenty of room.  And it will only be while he's on his
+vacation, anyway."
+
+Daniel rubbed his chin.  "I know," he admitted; "so he says.  But
+how long a vacation is it goin' to be?"
+
+"How do you suppose I know that?  I haven't asked him, it isn't
+likely."
+
+"No, I didn't suppose you had; but it seems kind of funny he hasn't
+told you himself.  What's it a vacation from?  What's he do for a
+livin'?  Anything but run receptions?"
+
+"That's it--sneer!  He does a great many things.  He is interested
+in literary work, so he says.  He writes for a living, I suppose
+that means."
+
+"Humph!  Has he got any answer?"
+
+"Answer?  Answer to what?"
+
+"Why, to his writing.  Has the livin' sent him word 'twas on the
+way, or anything like that?  I don't want to be mean, Serena.  You
+know well enough I ain't stingy.  But I can't quite make that young
+fellow out.  Why did he come here, anyway? that's what sticks in my
+mind.  What sort of a chap is he?  You know what that lawyer man
+said about him.  Nigh as I could make out from that, he thought he
+was a kind of high-toned loafer, sportin' round on his aunt's
+money.  Why does that kind of a fellow come to live along with us?
+WE ain't sports."
+
+"Will you EVER remember not to say 'ain't'?  He came here because
+he isn't that kind of a fellow at all.  He explained about that.
+It seems that he and that young upstart of a Farwell, the lawyer,
+had had some words and Farwell had a grudge against him.  He thinks
+it was largely owing to those lawyers' influence that Aunt Lavinia
+treated him as she did in her will.  But he doesn't hold any
+grudge.  I never heard anybody speak more forgiving or kind than
+he did about the whole affair.  I declare, it was positively
+affecting!  He told me about his life and about how he was all
+alone in the world; how he had never had to earn much--never having
+been brought up to it--but that now he was trying to do his best.
+I felt so sorry for him, and that was one of the reasons why I
+thought we, the only relations he has, ought to be kind and show
+him hospitality at least.  I never thought you were inhospitable,
+Daniel."
+
+"I ain't, Serena.  That is, I mean I are--am not.  But--but--Well,
+I'll tell you.  I haven't told you before, although I meant to, but
+he and I met once since we've been in Scarford.  I told you about
+the meeting, but I didn't know then who I met.  Now I--"
+
+"I know.  He told me about that, too.  He was the one you met at
+the hotel that afternoon.  He said he was ashamed of his behavior
+that day, that he was tired, out of sorts, and discouraged.  He
+thought you had been listening to what he and his friend had been
+saying, and it made him cross.  He said that he apologized when he
+first came to the house, and I remember that he did, and he asked
+me whether I thought any further apology was necessary.  I said no,
+of course it wasn't."
+
+"Well, I don't suppose it is.  But--well, there was somethin' else.
+It seemed to me that afternoon at the Rathskeller that he and that
+chum of his had been drinkin'."
+
+"Drinking?  Do you mean that they were intoxicated?"
+
+"No, not exactly that; but they had a couple of cocktails while I
+was there."
+
+"Is that all?  Oh, dear me!  Daniel, you are SO old-fashioned.
+Your ideas don't change a single mite.  In Trumet a cocktail is a
+dreadful thing; but here it isn't.  Why, everybody drinks a
+cocktail before dinner.  The Blacks always have them.  There were
+cocktails at that dinner at their house."
+
+"I know there was, but I didn't see you drinkin' yours, Serena."
+
+His wife hesitated.  "No," she admitted rather reluctantly, "I
+didn't.  I've been temperance all my life and somehow I couldn't
+bring myself to do it.  I hope Annette didn't think it was bad
+manners, but I just couldn't somehow.  Perhaps I ought to have
+tried--"
+
+"Tried!  My soul and body, Serena!  Don't talk that way.  If I see
+you startin' in to drink cocktails I shall begin to think the
+world's comin' to an end.  SOMETHIN' will come to an end right then
+and there, I'll tell you that!  The first cocktail you drink will
+be the signal for me to clear decks for action.  There's some
+things I WON'T stand, and that's one of 'em!"
+
+"There, there!  Don't get excited!  I shan't begin at my time of
+life.  But I shan't be narrow, either.  I don't want you to be.  If
+all you've got against Cousin Percy is that he drinks a cocktail
+once in a while I think you'd better get over it as soon as you
+can.  He does help me, Daniel, in my Chapter work and all the rest
+of it, and I'd like to have him stay here at present.  Now won't
+you be nice and obliging, same as you usually are, and let him
+stay, for my sake?  You will, won't you, dear?"
+
+Captain Dan said that he would, and yet he said it with
+considerable inward reluctance.  There was no real reason why he
+should have distrusted Percy Hungerford.  At least he could think
+of none in particular.  His distrust was based upon generalities
+and a knowledge of human nature acquired during his years of
+knocking about among men.  His wife's words made an impression.  If
+what she said was true, his conscience told him that he should be
+kind and generous in his attitude toward the literary person.
+But--well, the "but" was still there.
+
+It was his intention to seek out Fenholtz and ask a few questions
+concerning Cousin Percy, but the opportunity did not offer itself,
+and shortly after the reception the Fenholtzes left for the South,
+where they were to spend the winter.  So that source of information
+was cut off.
+
+During the next fortnight the captain's sense of desertion and of
+being almost a stranger in his own house grew stronger than ever.
+There were more callers and more calls to return; there were more
+bridge parties and teas.  His wife astonished him by announcing
+that she was going to take lessons in bridge and that Mr.
+Hungerford had found a teacher to perfect her in that branch of
+knowledge.
+
+"Of course," she said, "it will cost quite a little, but Cousin
+Percy says there's no use having a teacher at all unless you have a
+good one, and three dollars a lesson isn't too much, because you
+learn so quickly from an expert.  I was sure you would be willing
+for me to take the lessons, Daniel."
+
+Daniel shook his head.  "I'm willin' for you to do most anything
+that pleases you, Serena," he said, "but three dollars a lesson for
+learnin' how to play cards seems to me a pretty good price.  If it
+was me I should feel as if 'twas doubtful whether I'd get as much
+out of it as I put in.  That's what Ezra Small, back home, said
+when he put his sprained foot in a plaster cast.  Ezra said he
+never expected to get more than half his foot back, because the way
+that plaster stuck he cal'lated it would hang on to the rest.  I
+should feel the same way about the three dollars for a bridge
+lesson."
+
+"Oh, no, you wouldn't after you had taken a few.  You'll like it
+then."
+
+"_I_, like it!  Good Heavens, you don't mean--"
+
+"I meant that you're going to take lessons, too, of course.  You
+must learn to play bridge--everybody plays it.  And you used to
+like cards."
+
+"I used to like high-low-jack, and I could manage to take a hand at
+euchre without raisin' too big a disturbance; but I never could
+learn that bridge and play it with those women friends of yours--
+never in this world.  More'n that, I don't intend to try."
+
+And he positively refused to try in spite of his wife's pleading.
+However, he consented to the employment of the bridge teacher for
+her and, thereafter, two hours of each alternate afternoon, Sundays
+excepted, were spent by Mrs. Dott and two other female students in
+company with a thin and didactic spinster who quoted Elwell and
+Foster and discoursed learnedly concerning the values of no-trump
+hands.  The lessons were given at the Dott home and Mr. Hungerford
+was an interested spectator.  Daniel, who was not interested, and
+felt himself in the way, moped in his own room or went upon more of
+the lonely walks about town.
+
+Chapter meetings and Chapter activities occupied more of Serena's
+time.  There were "open" meetings occasionally and these Captain
+Dan seldom attended.  Mr. Hungerford acted as his wife's escort and
+seemed to enjoy it, in his languid fashion.  Chapter politics began
+now to have their innings.  There was to be a national convention
+of the Ladies of Honor, a convention to be held in the neighboring
+city of Atterbury, and Scarford Chapter was to send delegates.
+Mrs. B. Phelps Black, who aspired to national honors, was desirous
+of being one of these delegates, but so were many others, and Mrs.
+Black's candidacy was by no means unopposed.  She called upon
+Serena for help, and into the fight in aid of her friend Serena
+flung herself, heart and soul.
+
+There were meetings, and more meetings, and letter writing, and
+canvassing of voters.  Here again, Daniel was of no use.  Cousin
+Percy's experience--he seemed to have had all sorts of experience--
+helped amazingly.  Mr. Hungerford's willingness to help in all
+things where no particular labor was concerned was most
+astonishing.  By this time he was as much a member of the Dott
+household as Serena herself--more than the captain, who began to
+feel that he was not a member at all.  Even bridge was side-tracked
+for the more absorbing political game, and evening after evening
+Captain Dan spent alone.  Occasionally Mr. Hungerford kept him
+company, but his was company not too congenial.  It is true that
+the young man was agreeable enough, but he and the captain found
+nothing in common to talk about, and Cousin Percy usually gave up
+the attempt at conversation rather early and fell asleep upon the
+sofa or went out on little excursions of his own to which Daniel
+was not invited.
+
+Mr. Hungerford smoked a good deal, and it was Daniel's cigars that
+he smoked.  His vacation seemed no nearer the end than it had when
+he first came.  The shrewd Azuba informed the captain that she
+guessed it was "one of them vacations that didn't have any end, but
+was all beginnin'."  Her employer reproved her for speaking in this
+way of a friend of the family--he felt it was his duty to do that--
+but the rebuke was a mild one.
+
+One night, or rather one morning, for it was nearly two o'clock, he
+was awakened by a series of violent shakes, and opened his eyes to
+find his wife bending over him.  She had been out, attending a
+special meeting of the Chapter, and had hastened upstairs without
+stopping to take off her wraps.
+
+"Daniel, Daniel, wake up!" she cried.
+
+The captain groaned.  "Hey! what is it?" he asked sleepily.  Then,
+with a little more interest, "Is the house afire?"
+
+"No, no, but do wake up and listen.  I've had the greatest honor
+done me.  You will hardly believe it.  The delegates to the
+Atterbury Convention were elected to-night.  Annette Black is one--
+I just KNEW she'd win--and Mrs. Lake is another, and who do you
+suppose is the third?"
+
+Captain Dan sat up in bed.  "Not you?" he shouted.
+
+"Yes, I.  And, more than that, I was the one selected to read a
+paper there.  Annette expected to do that, but, when it came to the
+vote, my last paper, the one I read Thursday night, the one Cousin
+Percy helped me so in preparing, was selected over all the rest.
+The vote was nearly two to one.  I am to read it on the second day
+of the Convention.  Isn't it wonderful!  Annette was so jealous she
+hardly said good-night to me.  But I don't care.  There, Daniel
+Dott! aren't you proud of your wife?"
+
+There was a little hesitation in her husband's manner, and yet he
+tried his best to be enthusiastic.  "Oh, yes," he said, "but then I
+was proud of you before, Serena.  But--but what does this mean?
+Have you and I got to traipse way over to Atterbury?"
+
+"Not you.  You're not going.  None of the men are.  This is a
+women's convention.  Men are not invited."
+
+"I know.  But I've got to go there with you.  You ain't goin' off
+travelin' by yourself."
+
+"I'm going with the other Chapter delegates; we will travel
+together."
+
+"I want to know!  How long are you goin' to be gone?"
+
+"I'm not sure.  Three or four days probably."
+
+"And I've got to stay here alone?"
+
+"Why, you won't be alone.  Cousin Percy will be here, and there's
+Azuba."
+
+"Yes, and that everlastin' Hapgood, I suppose.  Say, Serena, have
+you GOT to go?"
+
+"Got to?  Why, I WANT to!  It's an honor.  Don't you want me to
+go?"
+
+"Why--why, I suppose I do; but--but--"
+
+"But, what?  Oh, you DON'T want me to go!  I can see--and I thought
+you'd be so glad!"
+
+She was almost in tears.  Daniel's sensitive conscience smote him
+once more.  "Land sakes!" he protested.  "Of course I want you to
+go, Serena!  I wouldn't have you do anything else for the world.
+I--I was just kind of lonesome, that's all.  I get that way
+sometimes, lately.  Seems as if you and I don't see as much of each
+other as we used to.  Do you think it's all worth while?"
+
+"Worth while!  Why, Daniel Dott!"
+
+"There, there! don't take on.  I guess it is.  I suppose you know
+best about such things.  But I get kind of blue settin' around here
+thinkin', without you to talk to; and Gertie isn't here.  You see,
+I miss you both."
+
+"Yes, I suppose you do.  Well, after this convention is over I
+shall have a little more time, I hope.  And Gertie will be home
+pretty soon.  It's almost time for her Christmas vacation."
+
+"Yes, I know it is.  I was thinkin' that to-day.  My! we'll be glad
+to see her, won't we?"
+
+"Of course we will.  But, do you know, Daniel, I've been so busy
+that I almost forgot about Christmas and Gertie's vacation and
+everything.  It was Cousin Percy that reminded me of it."
+
+"Reminded you of what?--of Christmas?"
+
+"No, of course not--of Gertie's vacation.  He said that she was
+coming and that he should be glad to make her acquaintance."
+
+"HE said so?  How did he know?  _I_ never told him."
+
+"I don't remember that I did, either.  But I suppose I must have.
+Anyhow, he knew.  He is very much interested in Gertie and how she
+was getting on at college and all that.  I saw him looking at her
+photograph that very day of the reception.  He knew that it was
+she, without being told."
+
+"Humph!  He seems to know a lot.  But, there!  I recollect now--
+Gertie said she met him at college.  Well, Serena, I won't complain
+any more.  You can go to Atterbury if you want to.  I'll get along
+all right."
+
+And to Atterbury Mrs. Dott went.  It was the first time since the
+old sea-going days that Captain Dan and his wife had been separated
+longer than twenty-four hours.  He saw her off on the train and
+then moped drearily back to Aunt Lavinia's mansion, which he was
+now beginning to hate, and, seating himself in the library, tried
+to find interest in a novel.  He did not find it, however, and went
+to bed early.  Cousin Percy, who was out that evening, did not
+retire early.  Next morning he seemed to have little appetite for
+breakfast, and was less agreeable than usual.
+
+The three days passed somehow.  The wanderer was to return on
+Thursday morning, but she did not.  Instead came a telegram,
+reading as follows:
+
+
+"Meeting and paper great success.  Send immediately one of my
+latest photographs.  Serena."
+
+
+The puzzled Daniel sent the photograph preceded by a telegram of
+his own which read:
+
+
+"When are you coming home?  Why don't you write?  Have been worried
+about you.  Answer."
+
+
+The answer was delayed still another day.  When it came, it was in
+the shape of a very short note stating that Saturday was the date
+of return.  Serena wrote that she was having a lovely time.  She
+would tell him all about it when she got back.  "And," she added,
+"I am sending you by this mail copies of the Atterbury paper.
+Please show it to any of the Chapter members whom you may meet."
+
+Captain Dan unfolded the paper and gazed at the page marked with
+blue pencil.  Here, under black headlines, which screamed the
+success of the convention of the Ladies of Honor, was a horrible
+blotted outrage resembling a stout negress peering through a screen
+door and labeled, "Mrs. Serena Sarah Dott, of Scarford, whose
+brilliant paper scored the success of the meeting."  It was only by
+a process of deduction that Daniel realized the thing to be a
+reproduction of the photograph he had sent.  He glanced hurriedly
+over the account of the meeting, catching here and there phrases
+like "Mrs. Dott's forte is evidently platform speaking"--"clear
+thought, well expressed"--"tumultuous applause."  He felt that he
+ought to read the account from beginning to end, but also that he
+could not.  Azuba, however, when it was shown to her, had no such
+feeling.  She bore it to the kitchen, read it all, and returned to
+crow vaingloriously.
+
+"Well, there now, Captain Daniel!" she exclaimed.  "Ain't it
+wonderful!  Ain't it grand!  Ain't you a lucky man to have a wife
+as notorious as she's gettin' to be!  I swan to man, if it ain't--"
+
+The captain interrupted her.  "Azuba," he said, rather testily for
+him, "if you use that word again I don't know as I won't make you
+eat a dictionary.  My wife may be famous and she may be a platform
+speaker, but I'm blessed if I'll have her notorious, not if I can
+help it."
+
+"But she is notorious, ain't she?  Look at her right there in the
+newspaper, with all that piece about her in print!  I wish Labe
+could read such a piece in the paper about me.  Why, what ails you,
+Daniel Dott?  Just look at that photograph!"
+
+Captain Dan rose.  "Yes," he said drily, "I've been lookin' at it.
+That's part of what ails me."
+
+On Saturday he was at the station to meet his wife.  Serena was
+inwardly jubilant, although, because of the presence of Mrs. Lake
+and Annette, she tried to appear dignified and calm.  But when she
+and her husband were alone on their way to the house her jubilation
+burst forth.
+
+"Oh, it was a wonderful success!" she declared.  "I declare, I wish
+you might have been there.  The way they applauded!  And the
+entertainment they gave me!  And the reporters after interviews!
+And the things the women of the other Chapters said!  Oh, Daniel,
+it was splendid!"
+
+Lunch was a mere formality on her part.  She talked incessantly,
+while Cousin Percy and her husband listened.  Mr. Hungerford's
+congratulations were hearty.  His praise was as close to fulsome
+flattery as it could be and not overstep the mark.
+
+Daniel offered congratulations, too.  He was glad that his wife had
+succeeded, but the pleasure was solely because of her happiness.
+He was not as happy on his own account.  Several remarks which
+Serena had made seemed to prophesy that the excursion to Atterbury
+was but the beginning.
+
+All that afternoon Mrs. Dott spent in her room.  She was going to
+be very busy, she said, and she must not be interrupted.  It was
+only just before dinner that the captain found a moment for an
+uninterrupted interview.  He entered the room to find her seated at
+the writing table, her fingers ink-stained, and the table covered
+with closely written sheets of manuscripts.  She looked up when he
+appeared.
+
+"Oh," she said, "I'm so tired!  I've written steadily all the
+afternoon.  My report had to be ready, and there was so much to
+say."
+
+Daniel regarded her gravely.  "You look tired, Serena.  You're
+doin' altogether too much of this sort of thing.  You ought to
+stop, or you'll be sick.  Now, you just rest a while.  My, it does
+seem good to have you back again!  We can have an evening together
+now.  I'll tell you what we'll do:  You tell Hungerford you're
+tired and then come right up here, and I'll come, too.  Then we can
+sit and talk.  I've got so much to say to you."
+
+But Serena shook her head.  "No, Daniel," she said.  "I can't talk
+to-night."
+
+"Then don't; I'll do the talkin'.  Land's sakes! it'll be enough
+just to look at you.  I don't feel as if I'd seen you for a hundred
+years."
+
+Another shake of the head.  "I'm sorry, Daniel, but I can't be with
+you at all to-night.  I must present my report to the Chapter and I
+shall probably not be home till very late."
+
+Daniel sprang from his chair.  "Serena Dott!" he cried.  "Do you
+mean to tell me that you're goin' out to that Chapter thing again
+TO-NIGHT! after bein' away from me all this time!  Why, you've just
+got home!"
+
+"I can't help it, Daniel.  I must present my report.  It's my duty
+to do it.  The Chapter expects me and I must be there."
+
+"Expects you!  _I_ expected you, didn't I?  And, by the everlastin',
+I think I had a right to expect you!  I'm your husband, ain't I?
+Seems to me I am entitled to a little of your society."
+
+"I can't help it, Daniel.  The Chapter--"
+
+Captain Dan's feelings got the better of his prudence.  "Damn the
+Chapter!" he shouted.  "I wish you and I had never heard of it, nor
+anybody that belongs to it."
+
+The instant after the words left his lips he would have given a
+good deal to recall them, but it was too late.  His wife slowly
+rose.
+
+"Daniel Dott!" she gasped.  "Daniel Dott!  You--YOU--why--my
+husband talking to me like that!  My own HUSBAND! the man of all
+men that I expected would be proud of me!  The man who should be
+proud and glad that I have found my lifework--speaking to me like
+that!  Oh! oh! what shall I do!  How CAN I bear it!"
+
+She fell back into the chair, her head sank upon her arms over the
+manuscript of the precious report, and she burst into a storm of
+sobs.
+
+Daniel was as much overcome as she.  He hurried to her side and in
+an agony of remorse bent over her.
+
+"There, there, Serena," he pleaded.  "Don't do so.  I didn't mean
+it.  It kind of--"
+
+He would have put his arms about her but she pushed them away.
+
+"And swearing at me," she sobbed.  "And using language that--"
+
+"I didn't mean to swear, Serena.  I never swore at you before in my
+life.  I didn't mean to this time.  It just seemed to come out all
+of itself.  Please forgive me, won't you?  Please?"
+
+But Serena was not ready to forgive.  The sleepless nights and days
+of wild excitement had thrown her nerves into a state where it
+needed but the slightest jar to break them completely.  She sobbed,
+and choked, and gasped, her fingers clutching at her hair.  Daniel,
+hanging over her, tried in vain to put in a word.
+
+"Please, Serena," he kept saying.  "Please."
+
+Suddenly the sobs ceased.  Serena's hands struck the desk and she
+rose so abruptly that her husband had scarce time to get out of her
+way.
+
+"Serena," he cried.
+
+But Serena cut him short.  "Go away," she commanded.  "Go away and
+leave me.  I don't want to speak to you again."
+
+"But, Serena--"
+
+"Go away.  Don't come near me again to-night.  Go, go, GO!"
+
+And Daniel went, slowly, reluctantly.  He was scarcely past the
+sill, his hands still upon the knob of the door, when that door was
+closed from within with a slam.  He made one more effort to speak,
+but he heard the key turn and his wife's voice commanding him to go
+away.  He descended the stairs to the library and threw himself
+into a chair.  Mr. Hungerford, smoking one of his host's cigars and
+reading the evening paper, looked at him curiously and asked what
+was the matter.
+
+Daniel turned on him.  "Nothin'," he roared.  "Nothin', do you
+hear?"  Then he rushed from the library to the hall, seized his hat
+and coat from the rack and hurried out of the house.  He walked and
+walked, but if, upon his return, anyone had asked him where he had
+walked he could not have told them.  This was the first serious
+quarrel that he and his wife had had during their married life.
+
+It was half-past seven when he returned and found Azuba fidgeting
+in the dining-room.  It was Mr. Hapgood's free evening and he had
+left early.
+
+"For mercy sakes!" Azuba demanded.  "Where have you been?"
+
+"Out!" was the gloomy rejoinder.  "Where's the rest of the folks?"
+
+"Gone to Chapter meetin'."
+
+"Both of 'em?"
+
+"Yes.  It was an open meeting and Mr. Hungerford went along, too.
+Where are you goin' now?  Don't you want anything to eat?  It's
+been waitin' for you for an hour."
+
+"Let it wait; I don't want it."
+
+He walked from the room.  Azuba gazed after him open-mouthed.
+
+"Well!" she soliloquized in a voice loud enough for the captain to
+hear.  "Well, if anybody'll tell me what's the use of gettin' all
+het up cookin' vittles in this house, then I'd like to have 'em do
+it.  Here I've worked and worked and fussed and fussed to get
+dinner and nobody's ate a mouthful but one, and he's the one that
+gets it for nothin'.  I never saw such doin's.  Don't talk to ME!"
+
+Captain Dan didn't talk to anybody.  He sat alone in the library,
+miserable and downhearted.  After a while Azuba came and announced
+that she guessed she'd get a mouthful of fresh air, if she wasn't
+needed.  Receiving no answer, she apparently considered the request
+granted and the captain heard the back door shut.  Still the
+captain sat in the library, a huddled, pathetic heap in the
+armchair, gazing at vacancy.  Occasionally he sighed.
+
+The doorbell rang.  Aroused from his doleful reverie by the sound,
+Daniel jumped from his chair and, going to the hall, shouted for
+Azuba.  Then he remembered that Azuba was not on the premises and
+answered the ring himself.  He had forgotten to push the button of
+the porch light and, peering out into the dark, he could see only
+that the person standing upon the top step was a woman.  A carriage
+had drawn up at the curb and the driver was unloading a trunk from
+the rack.
+
+"Good evenin'!" said Daniel.
+
+The answer was a surprise.  There was a laugh, and then a pair of
+arms were thrown about Captain Dan's neck and a girlish voice said:
+"Good evening!  Is THAT all you've got to say to me?  Why, Daddy,
+you dear old goose, don't you know me?"
+
+Daniel's answer was a shout that might have been heard at the next
+corner.
+
+"What!" he roared.  "GERTIE!  Good land of love!  Where'd you come
+from?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+"But aren't you glad to see me, Daddy?" asked Gertrude.  They were
+in the library.  The trunk had been carried upstairs and the young
+lady had assured her father over and over again that she really
+didn't want any dinner, as she had eaten on the dining car during
+the journey from Boston.
+
+The captain, who had scarcely taken his eyes off her since her
+arrival at the house, drew a long breath.
+
+"Glad to see you!" he repeated.  "I never was more glad to see
+anybody in MY life.  How'd you happen to come so soon?  We weren't
+expectin' you for a week."
+
+"I hadn't expected to come, but I changed my mind.  Now tell me all
+about yourself.  How are you, and how's Mother?  And how are you
+getting on?  Mother has gone to the Chapter meeting, you say.  Did
+she go alone?"
+
+"No, she didn't go alone.  That--Cousin Percy went with her."
+
+"Cousin Percy?  Oh, you mean Mr. Hungerford.  Do you call him
+Cousin Percy?  How funny!"
+
+She seemed much amused.  Her father smiled, but it was a rather
+sheepish smile.
+
+"'Tis kind of funny, I suppose," he admitted.  "I don't know as he
+really is a cousin.  Fact is, I guess he ain't any real relation."
+
+"Of course he isn't.  He was Aunt Lavinia's second cousin, or
+something like that, but she was only your aunt by marriage.  I
+don't see why you should speak of him as 'Cousin Percy.'  Did he
+ask you to?"
+
+"No-o; I don't know as he did.  But, you see, he always calls your
+mother Cousin Serena and me Cousin Daniel, and--and--well, I guess
+we've kind of got into the habit.  Your mother began it and, now
+that he's been here so long, I've caught the disease, I shouldn't
+wonder."
+
+"Long!  Why, he hasn't been here more than a month, has he?"
+
+"Hey?  No; no; now that you mention it I don't suppose he has.  But
+it seems a lot longer than that to me."
+
+He sighed.  Gertrude regarded him keenly.  Unconscious of the
+regard he sat there, lost in thought, apparently forgetful of her
+presence.  She reminded him by saying:
+
+"Why does it seem longer?"
+
+He started and looked up.
+
+"Hey?  Why?" he repeated.  "Oh, I don't know.  So many things have
+happened, I guess."
+
+"What kind of things?"
+
+"All kinds.  But there--tell me about yourself.  How's college?
+And how's John?  Land sakes!  I ain't said a word about John, and
+he's about as important as anything on earth just now, or he ought
+to be.  Guess you think I'm a selfish old pig, not to ask about him
+before this.  How is he?"
+
+"You couldn't be selfish if you tried, Daddy.  You never knew how
+to be.  John is well and very busy.  He sent his love to you and
+Mother, and he hopes to run down here before very long and spend a
+few days with us."
+
+"Does, hey?  That's good.  I suppose YOU don't hope he'll come.
+Ha! ha! no, of course not.  He's doin' all the hopin'."
+
+"Well, perhaps not all.  But there, Daddy, don't waste time talking
+of John or me.  I want to hear about you and about Mother, and how
+you like living in Scarford."
+
+"Why, I wrote you all about that."
+
+"Yes, I know you did, but I want to hear more, lots more.  And I
+want to see the house.  Just think, I haven't seen it at all.  Now,
+Daddy, you must show me all the rooms right away.  We can talk as
+we go.  Come on."
+
+She led the way and Daniel followed.  The house was shown from top
+to bottom.  Gertrude asked many questions, the majority of which
+seemed to have little to do with the new establishment and more
+with the life which her parents had spent in it.  Captain Dan
+answered these questions in the intervals between rooms, and his
+answers were less guarded than they might have been under different
+circumstances.  At length the young lady ceased to question, and
+the tour of inspection was finished in silence on her part.
+
+When they returned to the library, the captain, who had been
+waiting for some expression of approval from his daughter, suddenly
+blurted out:
+
+"Well, why don't you say somethin', Gertie?  Don't you like it?"
+
+Gertrude, seated in the easy chair, her elbow resting on the chair
+arm and her chin supported by her hand, answered promptly.
+
+"No," she said, "I don't like it at all."
+
+"What!  Don't LIKE it?  Don't like this house?  Well, for mercy
+sakes!"
+
+"Oh, not the house; I like that well enough.  I liked our old one
+quite as well--but never mind that now.  The house is all right.
+It is the rest of it that is all wrong.  I don't like that."
+
+"The rest of it?  What do you mean?"
+
+Gertrude did not answer.  Instead she raised her head and looked at
+him.  It was a long look and a steady one, and the captain found it
+hard to bear.  He fidgeted for a moment and then blurted out:
+
+"Well, what is it?  Why are you starin' at me like that?"
+
+The stare continued.
+
+"What is it?" demanded Daniel.  "What does ail you, Gertie?  Or is
+it me?"
+
+His daughter nodded.  "Yes," she said, "it is you.  Why don't you
+tell me all about it, Daddy?  I have a right to know.  Why don't
+you tell me?"
+
+"Tell you?  Tell you what?"
+
+"You know.  Why don't you tell me?  You have told me so much
+already that you may as well make a clean breast of it.  Why, you
+silly old Dad, what do you suppose brought me here a week ahead of
+my vacation?  Why do you think I came?"
+
+"Why do I think--?  Why--why, you came because you wanted to see
+your mother and me, I suppose.  That's reason enough--or I
+flattered myself that 'twas.  I thought you was as anxious to see
+us as we was to see you."
+
+"So I was; but that wasn't reason sufficient to make me leave my
+work at college before the term was over, leave it for good, very
+likely.  I came because I was sure you needed me.  And your letters
+made me sure."
+
+Daniel gasped.  His letters had been triumphs of diplomatic
+evasion, so he considered.  He had been so careful to write nothing
+of his troubles, to leave out everything which should hint at his
+disturbed state of mind.  He had taken pains to express, in each
+epistle, his contentment and happiness, had emphasized them.  And
+now--
+
+"My letters!" he exclaimed.  "My letters made you think--made you
+sure--"
+
+"Yes; your letters and mother's.  Hers were full of all sorts of
+things, the very things that you never mentioned.  She didn't say
+she was having a good time here, but it was plain enough that she
+was.  You said it in every letter--that you were having the good
+time, I mean--but it was perfectly plain that you weren't.  And her
+last letter was so short--she was so busy with the Atterbury
+preparations that she could not write more, she said--and yours was
+so very, very long, and SO full of lonesomeness--"
+
+Her father interrupted.  Lonesomeness was the very thing he had
+tried to keep out of that letter.
+
+"Gertrude Atwell Dott!" he shouted.  "How you talk!  I never wrote
+a word--"
+
+"Yes, you did.  It was all there, between the lines.  I could read
+it, for you and I have been acquainted a good many years.  As soon
+as I received that letter I made up my mind to come at once.  Since
+I have been here I have asked a good many questions, and you have
+answered them.  But I didn't need the answers.  Just to look at you
+was enough.  You are miserable, Daddy dear, and, because you are
+you, you won't admit it.  But you've got to; you've got to tell me
+the whole story.  I want to know all about everything."
+
+The wind was taken completely out of Daniel's sails.  He could only
+sit there, guilt written plainly upon his face, and stammer frantic
+protestations.
+
+"No, no," he declared.  "It ain't so.  You're all wrong, Gertie.
+You're way off the course.  The idea of you sayin' your mother was
+neglectin' me."
+
+"I didn't say it.  You have said it a dozen times, but I haven't."
+
+"_I_ said it?  I never.  Your mother is a fine woman, Gertie; as
+good a woman as ever was."
+
+"I know that.  And she would not neglect you wilfully for the
+world.  But she has not had experience.  She takes people and
+things at their face value.  She doesn't understand--Why are you
+smiling?  Is it so funny?"
+
+Captain Dan rubbed the smile from his lips.  In spite of his
+perturbation he had been amused for the moment.
+
+"Why," he observed, "I don't know as 'tis, but--but--well, I
+couldn't help wonderin' how old you'd got to be in the last couple
+of months, Gertie.  You talk as if you was the grandmother and your
+ma and I were young ones just out of school.  About how much
+experience have YOU had, young lady? now that we're speakin' of
+it."
+
+Gertrude's earnestness was too real to be shaken by this pertinent
+inquiry.
+
+"I have had a good deal," she declared.  "One can get a lot of
+experience in college.  There are as many kinds of character there,
+on a small scale, as anywhere I know.  I have seen girls--but
+there! this is all irrelevant, away from the subject.  You ARE
+neglected, Daddy; you are lonely and miserable.  Now, I want you to
+tell me all about it."
+
+But her father had, in a measure, recovered his composure, and he
+declined to tell.  He had been longing for a confidant, and here
+was the one he had longed for most; but his sense of loyalty to
+Serena kept him silent.
+
+"There's nothin' to tell," he vowed stoutly.  "I'm all right.
+You're dreamin', Gertie."
+
+"Nonsense!  I shall lose patience with you pretty soon, and I don't
+want to.  Judging by what I have seen and learned so far, I am
+likely to need a great deal of patience in this house, and I can't
+waste any.  Mother has gone head over heels into this precious
+Ladies of Honor work of hers, hasn't she?"
+
+"We-ll, she's terrible interested in it, of course; but she's so
+smart anyhow, and here in Scarford she's got the chance she's been
+lookin' for."
+
+"And she is very much in society here, isn't she?"
+
+"Yes.  That's natural, too, with her smartness and all."
+
+"What kind of society is it?"
+
+"Hey?  What kind?  Why, it's the genuine gilt-edged kind, I should
+say.  _I_ never saw such clothes, nor such dinners, nor dances.
+It--"
+
+"Hush!  Yes, I can believe all that.  You wouldn't be likely to see
+them--in Trumet.  And I can believe in the gilt; the genuine part
+is what I am most doubtful of.  Mrs. Black is as influential with
+Mother as ever, isn't she?"
+
+"Yes.  She and Serena bein' such close friends, it--"
+
+"I know.  Tell me, Daddy, are the rest of Mother's friends like the
+Blacks?"
+
+"Pretty much.  They're all the same tribe--that is, I mean they're
+all brilliant, fashionable folks."
+
+"I see.  What sort of friends have YOU made?"
+
+This was straight from the shoulder and the captain was somewhat
+staggered.
+
+"Well," he admitted, after a slight pause, "I--I ain't made so
+dreadful many friends, Gertie.  Most of the men here are--are kind
+of different from me, seems so.  They belong to clubs and such, and
+they're out a lot nights.  I don't care for goin' out much; I've
+always been a great home body--you know that, Gertie.  I don't
+doubt, if I joined the club and went to 'stag' dinners and so on,
+I'd have more friends.  It ain't their fault, you know, it's me."
+
+"Yes, it always is you, isn't it, Daddy?  No one else is to blame,
+of course.  Well, I'm very glad I came when I did.  How many
+evenings have you spent alone, as you were spending this one?"
+
+"Not a great many.  I just--"
+
+"Why didn't you go to the Chapter to-night?  It must have been an
+open meeting, otherwise Mr. Hungerford couldn't have gone.  Why
+didn't you go with Mother?"
+
+Here was the one question Daniel had dreaded most.  To answer it
+truthfully meant telling of the quarrel between Serena and himself.
+He could not tell that, not even to his daughter.
+
+"I--I didn't feel like goin', somehow," he faltered.
+
+"That's strange.  I knew that you were not particularly interested
+in the Chapter--at least you never were in Trumet--but I never knew
+you to stay at home when Mother asked you to go with her.  Did she
+ask you?"
+
+"Now--now, Gertie, 'tain't likely I--I--"
+
+"Never mind; you needn't answer.  Tell me more about this new
+relative of ours, 'Cousin Percy.'  Do you like him, now that you
+really know him?"
+
+"Why--why, yes, I like him all right enough, I guess.  Course he
+and I are different, in some ways; but, then, he's younger by a
+good many years."
+
+Gertrude nodded slowly.  "I see," she said.  "You've made up your
+mind not to tell me anything, haven't you, Daddy?  You wouldn't
+hurt anyone's feelings for the world, and you are afraid I may
+blame Mother.  Well, I am not going to blame anyone yet.  And I am
+not going to quiz you any longer.  But I came home to find out
+things, and I am going to find out.  If you won't help me, I must
+help myself."
+
+Her father leaned forward and patted her hand.
+
+"Now--now, Gertie," he pleaded nervously, "don't be foolish.
+Everything's all right, I tell you.  Don't go stirrin' up any
+trouble.  I am so tickled to have you here I don't know what to do.
+Let's be contented with that.  Let's just be happy together.
+Don't--Hello!  here comes the Chapter folks now, I guess.  Maybe
+your mother won't be glad to see you!  Oh, Serena, who do you think
+is here?  I'll bet you'll be some surprised!"
+
+There was no doubt of the surprise; neither was there any doubt as
+to Serena's joy at seeing her daughter.  An outburst of greetings
+and questions and explanations followed.  Gertrude explained that
+she had had an opportunity to leave college a week earlier than the
+end of the term and had availed herself of it.
+
+"I just had to see you and father," she declared.  "I couldn't wait
+any longer.  I've been telling father so; haven't I, Daddy?"
+
+She accompanied this question with a glance which Captain Dan
+recognized as a warning.  He nodded.
+
+"Yes," he said.
+
+Serena suddenly remembered that the family was not alone.
+
+"Oh!" she exclaimed.  "What have I been thinking of?  Your coming
+home like this, Gertie, has made me forget everything else.  Cousin
+Percy--Why, where is Cousin Percy?"
+
+Mr. Hungerford, who, from motives of delicacy or other reasons, had
+stepped back into the hall, where he could see and hear without
+being too conspicuous, now made his appearance.
+
+"Gertrude," said Mrs. Dott, "this is our cousin, Mr. Percy
+Hungerford.  You've heard him spoken of.  Oh, yes--why, you and he
+have met.  I remember now, so you have."
+
+Mr. Hungerford bowed.
+
+"I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Dott one evening a year or two
+ago," he observed politely.  "No doubt she has forgotten me,
+however, by this time."
+
+Gertrude shook her head.
+
+"Oh, no," she said.  "I remember you very well, indeed.  How do you
+do, Mr. Hungerford?"
+
+The young gentleman announced that he was quite well.  He made a
+move as if to shake hands, but as there was no corresponding move
+on Miss Dott's part, he put his hand in his pocket instead.
+
+"That evening--the evening of the college dance--is one of my
+pleasantest recollections," he observed.  "I made some delightful
+acquaintances there.  I am ashamed to say that I have forgotten the
+names of the young ladies, but forgetfulness is one of my
+failings."
+
+"He meets so many people," cut in Serena, by way of apology.
+
+Gertrude smiled.  There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
+
+"I'm sure he hasn't forgotten us all," she declared.  "He could not
+be so ungallant as that."
+
+"He didn't forget you, anyway," declared Daniel.  "He knew your
+photograph just as soon as he laid eyes on it."
+
+"Oh, thank you, Daddy.  You've saved my self-respect.  But I was
+not referring to myself.  There are others whom I am sure Mr.
+Hungerford has not forgotten.  Isn't that true, Mr. Hungerford?"
+
+Cousin Percy appeared somewhat disconcerted.
+
+"Why," he stammered, "I don't understand.  I can't recollect--"
+
+"Can't you!  Oh, that is dreadful!  Do you correspond with so many
+young ladies that you can't remember their identity?  Oh! oh! and
+Margaret was SO proud of those letters!  Really, Mr. Hungerford!"
+
+She shook her head.  Her eyes were brimming over with fun.  Cousin
+Percy's cheeks had lost something of their aristocratic pallor.
+Margaret Babcock, the daughter of a well known glass manufacturer,
+had been one of the list of feminine acquaintances whom he had
+honored with long distance familiarity.  She was an impressionable
+young person and her papa was very wealthy.  The correspondence had
+broken off when her mother discovered one of the letters.  Mrs.
+Babcock had definite views concerning her daughter's future, and
+Mr. Hungerford was not included in the perspective.  The latter had
+forgotten, for the moment, that he met Miss Babcock at the college
+dance; therefore he was confused.
+
+But the confusion was short-lived.  He recovered quickly.
+
+"I BEG your pardon, Miss Dott," he said with a laugh.  "I had
+forgotten Miss Babcock.  Poor Margaret!  She was of an age when
+letters, especially masculine letters, are delightfully wicked.
+Forbidden fruit, you know.  She asked me to write, and I was
+foolish enough to do so.  I presume my humble epistles furnished
+harmless amusement for the class.  Very glad to have contributed,
+I'm sure."
+
+"You did contribute.  We all enjoyed them so much--especially
+Margaret.  She is a year older than I, Mr. Hungerford."
+
+Serena, who, like the captain, did not understand a great deal of
+all this, decided to change the subject.  She did not address her
+husband--she had not spoken to him since the scene in the room
+upstairs--but the exaltation and triumph which the evening just
+passed had brought to her soul now burst forth.  She began to
+describe the Chapter's meeting and to tell of her great success at
+Atterbury, and the enthusiastic reception by the Scarford members
+of her report.  Mr. Hungerford seized the opportunity to deprive
+the family of his society.  He was rather tired, he explained, had
+a bit of writing to do before retiring, and, if they would excuse
+him, would go to his room.  Being excused, with reluctance on Mrs.
+Dott's part and silence on the part of Gertrude and her father, he
+said good-night and withdrew.
+
+"And now, Mother," said Gertrude, "tell me more about yourself, and
+about the Chapter, and the friends you have made, and everything.
+Father has told me a little, and your letters and his have told me
+more, but I want to know it all.  I am very much interested."
+
+Serena did not need to be asked twice.  She told a great deal,
+warming to her subject as she proceeded.  She told of their arrival
+in Scarford, of the kindness shown by the Blacks and Mrs. Lake and
+the rest.  "Wonderful women, Gertie! brilliant, intellectual,
+advanced thinkers, every one of them.  Not much like Abigail Mayo
+and the rest at Trumet."
+
+She told of their adventures in society, of the Blacks' dinner, of
+the reception, of her bridge lessons.  Gertrude listened, saying
+nothing, but watching both her parents intently as the narrative
+proceeded.
+
+Daniel, fidgeting in his chair, waited, nervously expectant, for
+the protest which he felt sure his daughter might make at any
+moment.  But no protest came.  Only once did the young lady
+interrupt, and then it was to ask a question.
+
+"I suppose Daddy enjoys all this as much as you do, Mother?" she
+said.  "Doesn't he?"
+
+Mrs. Dott's expression changed.  The radiant joy, which had
+illumined her face as she described her progress at bridge, faded,
+and she seemed on the verge of tears.
+
+"Don't, Gertie," she begged.  "Don't ask me about your father,
+please.  Enjoy it?  No, he doesn't enjoy it at all.  He has no
+sympathy for my aims and ambitions.  He takes no pride in my
+advancement.  To-night--only this very night, he said to me--Oh, I
+can't tell you what he said!  Don't ask me, please."
+
+Captain Dan almost slipped from his chair in the agony of
+justification.
+
+"I never meant it, Gertie," he declared.  "It just happened, I
+don't know how.  I'll leave it to you; I'll leave it to anybody,
+if--"
+
+For the first time his wife noticed his presence.
+
+"Leave it to anybody!" she repeated wildly.  "You'll leave it to
+anybody!  I wish you would!  I wish you could hear what people
+think of it.  Why, Cousin Percy said--"
+
+For the second time since lunch the captain forgot to be prudent.
+
+"Cousin Percy said!" he shouted.  "He said!  Do you mean to say you
+told him--THAT?  What business was it of his, I'd like to know?
+What did he say?  If he says it to me, I'll--I'll--"
+
+Gertrude motioned him to stop.
+
+"There! there!" she commanded.  "Daddy, be quiet.  Mother, you're
+tired out.  You must go to bed.  I'll go up with you, and we can
+talk while you are getting ready.  Daddy will wait here.  Come,
+Mother, come."
+
+She led the sobbing Serena from the room.  Captain Dan, his
+feelings divided between deep contrition at his own behavior and
+anger at Mr. Hungerford's interference in the affairs of himself
+and wife, obeyed orders and remained where he was.
+
+It was a long wait.  He smoked a cigar half through, lighting it
+three times in the process.  When it went out for the fourth time
+he dashed the stump into the fireplace and took to pacing up and
+down the room.  This reminded him of other days, days when he had
+paced the deck of his three-master, counting the hours which
+separated him from his wife and his home.  He thought of the
+welcome he had always received when he reached that home.  Oh, why--
+WHY had he ever retired from the sea?  That was where he belonged;
+he was of some use in the world there.  With a groan he stopped
+pacing and went out into the hall to listen for sounds from above.
+He heard the low murmurs of voices, the voices of his wife and
+daughter, but he could not distinguish words.  Back he went to the
+library and lit another cigar.  These cigars cost three times what
+his old Trumet brand had cost, but he got not a hundredth of the
+enjoyment from them.
+
+Twelve o'clock struck before Gertrude re-entered the library.  She
+entered quietly and, walking over to her father's chair, laid a
+hand on his shoulder.  He looked up at her in mute appeal.
+
+"It's all right, Daddy," she said.  "You can go up now."
+
+"But--but she--is she--"
+
+"She has forgiven you, I think.  You must be very kind to her."
+
+"Kind to her?  Kind!  Why, Gertie, I never meant to be anything
+else.  I wouldn't have--"
+
+"Of course you wouldn't.  Oh, Daddy, if you weren't the very worst
+diplomat in all this world this wouldn't have happened.  Why didn't
+you tell me all about it?  Why didn't you write me the truth long,
+long ago?  If I had only come sooner!  If I had only known!  Oh,
+WHY did you let things reach this state?  Why didn't you stop it?"
+
+"Stop it?  Stop what?"
+
+"Oh, everything.  Don't you remember that I told you to send for me
+if you needed me?  To send at any time and I would come?  And don't
+you remember that I wrote you if you felt this moving to Scarford
+was wrong to say no and stick to it?  Why didn't you do that?"
+
+"Why, I--I--Serena, she was so set on comin' and all that, that--"
+
+"I know.  You needn't tell me.  And yet, in a way, it seems
+strange.  I remember some things Laban Ginn, Azuba's husband, told
+me about you and your ways aboard ship; he said your crews obeyed
+every order you gave as if it was what he called 'Gospel.'  You,
+and no one else, was master there.  However, that is not pertinent
+just now.  Run along to bed, there's a dear."
+
+Daniel obediently rose.
+
+"But what are you goin' to do, Gertie?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know what I am going to do.  First of all I am going to
+see and find out for myself.  Then I shall decide.  One thing seems
+certain: I shall not go back to college."
+
+"Not go back!  Not go back to college?  Why, it's your last term!
+What'll your mother say?  What'll John say?"
+
+Gertrude's lips closed tightly and she gave a determined toss of
+her head.
+
+"John will say what I say, I think," she declared.  "As for Mother--
+well, what she says won't make any difference, not at present.
+Good-night, Daddy.  Now don't worry, and," she repressed a smile,
+"be very careful and, if you must express your opinion of the
+Chapter, do it in the back yard or somewhere out of hearing.  Good-
+night."
+
+She kissed him and he went slowly and fearfully upstairs.  Serena's
+attitude of reproachful and self-sacrificing forgiveness he met
+with meek repentance and promises not to offend again.  He got into
+bed, worn out and troubled, but with a ray of hope in his bosom,
+nevertheless.  Gertie had come home; Gertie was going to do
+something or other, he did not know and could not guess what.  At
+any rate she was with him, and he could see her every day.
+Perhaps--perhaps--still wondering perhapses he fell asleep.
+
+Next morning at breakfast the young lady seemed to be in good
+spirits and, except for Serena's absence--Serena had breakfast in
+her room, a proceeding which was apparently developing into a
+habit--the meal was to Daniel quite like one of the happy
+breakfasts of Trumet days.  Mr. Hungerford marred the captain's
+pleasure somewhat by joining the pair before they left the table,
+and to him Gertrude was surprisingly cordial and communicative.
+Cousin Percy, who had been, at first, rather on his guard, soon
+thawed and became almost loquacious.  Gertrude and he found a
+kindred taste for pictures and art in general, and before the
+captain's second cup of coffee was disposed of Mr. Hungerford had
+invited Miss Dott to accompany him to a water-color exhibition at a
+neighboring studio.  Gertrude said she thought she might accept the
+invitation, if the exhibition was to remain for a few days.
+
+"Is the artist a friend of yours?" she asked casually.
+
+"Oh, no," was the languid answer.  "He's a queer old gink--old
+chap, I mean--whose work is quite the go about here recently.  Some
+very decent people have taken him up, I believe.  He's worth
+meeting, so I'm told, as a curiosity.  I've seen only two or three
+of his paintings, but they're really not bad.  Some of the fellows
+at the club were talking about him the other night.  I think you'd
+enjoy the exhibition, Miss Dott."
+
+"I'm sure I should.  I should like to see the pictures and the--er--
+gink as well.  Thank you very much, Cousin Percy."
+
+When they were alone, Captain Dan turned to his daughter in puzzled
+amazement.
+
+"What did you call him 'Cousin Percy' for?" he demanded.  "Thought
+you thought your mother and I callin' him that was funny; you said
+you did."
+
+Gertrude laughed.  "Did I?" she replied.  "Well, perhaps I think so
+still."
+
+Whatever she may have thought, it did not prevent her continuing to
+be very cordial to the newly discovered relative.  He and she were
+together a good deal during the day.  She seemed to really enjoy
+his society.  The remainder of the time she spent with her mother.
+Captain Dan scarcely saw her except at luncheon and dinner.  Once
+he found her in the kitchen talking with Azuba, and on another
+occasion she and Mr. Hapgood were in conversation, but for her
+father she could spare only odd moments.  The captain did not know
+what to make of it.  When, taking advantage of a fleeting
+opportunity, he asked her she only laughed.
+
+"I am very busy, Daddy," she said.  "You mustn't bother."
+
+"Bother!  Well, I like that!  How long since my company was a
+bother to you, Gertie?  It never used to be."
+
+"It isn't now, and you know it.  But, as I say, I am very busy.
+Business first, pleasure afterwards."
+
+"Humph!  I'm glad I'm a pleasure, even if it's the kind that comes
+after everything else.  What have you and your ma been talkin'
+about upstairs for the last hour?"
+
+"A great many things--society and the Chapter and--oh, all sorts."
+
+"Want to know!  What were you and Azuba talkin' about?"
+
+"About household matters and the people IN the house."
+
+"People in the house!  What people?"
+
+"You and mother and Mr. Hun--that is, Cousin Percy--and Hapgood."
+
+"That's all there is, except yourself.  What was you and Hapgood
+havin' a confab on; more household matters?"
+
+"Yes, in a way.  Daddy, have Mr. Hungerford and Hapgood known each
+other long?"
+
+"I guess so.  He was Aunt Laviny's butler for a good many years,
+and Percy was a regular visitor there.  What made you ask that?"
+
+"Feminine curiosity, probably.  Has our cousin many friends here in
+Scarford?"
+
+"Why, he seems to know 'most everybody; everybody that's in what he
+and your mother call society, that is."
+
+"But has he any intimate friends?  Have you met any of them?"
+
+"I met one once.  He seemed to be pretty intimate.  Anyhow, they
+called each other by their first names.  Ho! ho! that whole thing
+was kind of funny.  I never wrote you about that, did I?"
+
+He told of the meeting in the Rathskeller.  Gertrude evinced much
+interest.
+
+"What was this friend's name?" she asked.
+
+"'Monty,' that's all I heard.  Queer name, ain't it--isn't it, I
+mean.  But it ain't any queerer than 'Tacks'; that's what he called
+Hungerford."
+
+"Has this 'Monty' called here?  Has he been here at the house?"
+
+"No-o, no, he hasn't.  I caught a glimpse of him at the club, that
+time when I went there with Barney--Godfreys! it's a good thing
+Serena didn't hear me say that--with Phelps Black, I mean."
+
+"Daddy, sometime when you have an opportunity, ask Mr. Black about
+this Monty, will you?"
+
+"Sartin, if you want me to.  But what do you care about Percy
+Hungerford's friends?"
+
+"I don't--about his friends."
+
+With which enigmatical remark she moved away to join Cousin Percy,
+who had just entered the room.
+
+During the next three days, Daniel's feeling that his daughter was
+neglecting him grew stronger than ever.  Her "business," whatever
+it might be, occupied practically all her time, and the captain and
+she were scarcely ever alone.  He was disappointed.  He had
+regarded her coming as the life preserver which was to help him
+through the troubled waters to dry land, and so far he was as
+helplessly adrift as before.  Serena had forgiven his profane
+expression concerning her beloved Chapter, that was true, but
+Serena also was "busy" during the days and evenings, and at bedtime
+she was too tired to talk.  Gertrude was with her mother a great
+deal, and with Cousin Percy almost as much.  They visited the
+water-color exhibition together, and would have gone on other
+excursions if the cousin had had his way.  Daniel did not like Mr.
+Hungerford.  He had grown to tolerate him because Serena liked him
+so much, and declared him such a help in her literary and political
+labors, but the captain had found secret comfort in the belief that
+his daughter did not like him any better than he did.  Now it
+looked as if she was beginning to like him, after all.  And there
+was no doubt whatever that Cousin Percy liked her.
+
+Gertrude's apparent interest in her mother's social and Chapter
+affairs was another disquieting feature of the situation, as Daniel
+viewed it.  Mrs. Black and Mrs. Lake called one afternoon and to
+them the young lady was cordiality itself.  They talked "Chapter,"
+of course, and to her father's horror Gertrude talked it, too.
+Being invited to attend the next meeting she announced that she
+should be delighted to go.
+
+"You didn't mean it, did you, Gertie?" pleaded the captain, when
+Serena had escorted the guests to the door.  "You didn't mean you
+was figgerin' to go to that devilish--to that Chapter?"
+
+"Hush!  Yes, of course I meant it."
+
+"But--but YOU!"
+
+"Hush!  Daddy, don't interfere.  I know what I'm about."
+
+Daniel was doubtful.  If she had known she surely would not think
+of going.  And yet, on the evening of the meeting, go she did.  The
+meeting was a protracted one, and, on their return, Serena, finding
+the lower rooms apparently deserted, went upstairs.  Gertrude was
+about to follow, but a figure stepped from the shadows of the
+library and detained her.
+
+"Why, Daddy!" she exclaimed.  "What are you doing up at this hour?"
+
+"Sh-sh!" in an agitated whisper.  "Don't let your mother hear you.
+I--I've been waitin' for you, Gertie.  I just had to talk to you.
+Come in here."
+
+He led the way into the library.
+
+"Don't say anything," he whispered; "that is, don't say very much.
+Serena'll be wantin' to know where I am in a minute.  Gertie, what
+are you up to?  WHY did you go to that Chapter?"
+
+"Hush, Daddy, hush!  It is all right."
+
+"All right!  Yes, I know it's all right so far.  That's what your
+mother used to say, back in Trumet, when she first started in.  You
+begin by sayin' it's all right and pretty soon it IS all right.  It
+ain't all right for me--it's all wrong.  Why did you go to that
+meetin'?"
+
+"I went because I wanted to see for myself.  And I saw."
+
+"Yes, you saw.  And you heard, too, I'll bet you.  Well, did you
+like it?"
+
+"LIKE it!  Daddy, tell me:  There is another Woman's Club in
+Scarford, isn't there?  This can't be the only one."
+
+"No, it ain't.  I believe there's another.  A different one--a
+sensible one, so I've heard tell.  Mrs. Fenholtz--you've heard me
+speak of her, Gertie; she's a fine woman--she belonged to the other
+one.  She wanted Serena to join, but Annette Black had her innin's
+first, and after that 'twas all off."
+
+"I see, I see."
+
+"You see; but what are you goin' to do?  Are you goin' to any more
+of them blessed meetin's?"
+
+"I may.  I probably shall.  Daddy, dear, you must trust me.  It is
+all right, I tell you."
+
+Ordinarily this would have been enough.  But to-night it was not.
+Captain Dan had spent some troubled hours since dinner and his
+nerves were on the ragged edge.
+
+"All right!" he repeated impatiently.  "Don't say that again.  Is
+it all right for you to be gettin' into the same mess your mother
+is in?  Is it all right for you to be talkin' about society and
+Chapters and--and I don't know what all?  I did trust you, Gertie.
+I said so.  I told Serena so this very afternoon.  She was talkin'
+about Cousin Percy, she's always praisin' him up, and she said you
+liked him just as much as she did.  He was a cultivated, superior
+young man, she said, and you recognized it.  I laughed at her.  I
+says, 'That's all right,' I says, 'but I wouldn't take too much
+stock in that.  Gertie knows what she's up to.  She's got some plan
+in her head, she told me so.  She may pretend--'"
+
+His daughter interrupted him.
+
+"Father!" she exclaimed indignantly.  "Why, Daddy! did you tell
+Mother THAT?"
+
+"Course I did!  Why not?  It's so, ain't it?  What is the plan,
+Gertie?  What are you up to?  You are pretendin', aren't you?
+Don't tell me you ain't!  Don't tell me--"
+
+"I shan't tell you anything.  You don't deserve to be told.  I'm
+out of patience with you, altogether.  You deserve to be miserable.
+You'll spoil--But there! good-night."
+
+"Gertie! Gertie! hold on.  Don't--"
+
+Serena's voice sounded at the head of the stairs.
+
+"Gertie!" she called.  "Who is it you're talking with?  Is your
+father there?  Why doesn't he come to bed?"
+
+"He's coming, Mother, right away.  So am I.  Good-night, Daddy."
+
+The next forenoon, as Azuba was blacking the stove, Gertrude
+entered the kitchen.
+
+"Good-morning, Azuba," she said.  "Are you alone?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I'm alone."
+
+"Where is Hapgood?"
+
+"Land knows!  Upstairs, lookin' out for that Hungerford man's
+clothes, I guess likely.  He waits on that young critter as if he
+was the Prince of Wales.  Well, you went Chapterin' and advancin'
+last night, I understand.  What did you think of it?"
+
+"Think?  I thought--Oh, Azuba!"
+
+"Yup.  It's 'oh, Azuba,' I guess.  That's what I've been sayin' to
+myself for quite a spell.  I'd have said it to your pa, too, if it
+would have done any good."
+
+"It wouldn't.  We mustn't say a word to him, or anyone else."
+
+"I know.  And yet, when I think of the way things are goin' at
+loose ends I have the shakes.  Do you know what it's costin' to run
+this place the way it's run?  I know.  And I know, too, that nobody
+else seems to know or care.  Your pa trusts everything to his wife,
+and she trusts everything to that Hapgood.  She can't be bothered,
+she says, and Hapgood's such a capable buyer.  Capable! he'll be
+rich as well as capable if it keeps on, and the rest of us'll be
+capable of the poorhouse.  And there's Serena's health.  She's
+gettin' more nervous all the time, and just wearin' herself out
+with her papers and conventions and politics and bridge and
+society.  My land!  Don't talk to me!  And it ain't no use to talk
+to her.  There's got to be somethin' more'n talk."
+
+Gertrude nodded.
+
+"So I think," she affirmed.  "Azuba, I have a scheme.  It may be
+the best idea in the world and it may be the worst, but I am going
+to risk it.  And you must help me.  Will you?"
+
+"Sartin sure I will!"
+
+"And you won't tell a soul, not a living soul?"
+
+"Not one, livin' or dead.  You needn't look at me like that.  I
+swan to mercy, I won't tell anybody."
+
+"Good!  Then listen."
+
+Azuba listened, listened in silence.  When her young mistress
+ceased speaking she shook her head slowly.
+
+"Well," she observed, "it looks some like hoppin' out of the fryin'
+pan into the fire, but, even if it turns out that way, perhaps it's
+just as well to be roasted as fried.  Humph! no, 'twon't do to tell
+anybody.  I shan't, and you mustn't."
+
+"I don't intend to."
+
+"Um!  Not even John Doane?"
+
+"Well," doubtfully, "I may tell John later on.  But I shall wait to
+tell him, I shan't write.  He'll have to trust me, too."
+
+"So he will.  Fur's that goes, it's a good thing for men folks to
+learn to trust us women.  If Labe, my husband, hadn't trusted me
+all these years, he'd have done some worryin', I cal'late.  All
+right, Gertie, I'm with you till the last plank sinks.  But," with
+a chuckle, "I'm kind of sorry for your pa.  The medicine may cure
+us all in the end, but it'll be a hard dose for him to take, won't
+it?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+Captain Dan's foundations were slipping from beneath him.  His
+daughter's return had seemed to him like the first ray of sunshine
+breaking through the clouds and presaging the end of the storm.
+Now, it began to look as if the real storm was but beginning.
+Gertrude was apparently contracting the society and Chapter
+disease.  Gertrude, upon whose good sense and diplomacy he had
+banked so heavily, was rapidly losing that sense.  So far from
+influencing her mother to give up the "crazy notions" which were,
+Daniel firmly believed, wrecking their home and happiness, she was
+actually encouraging and abetting these notions.
+
+The young lady was certainly spending a great deal of time with her
+mother and her mother's friends.  When Mrs. Black and Mrs. Lake
+called for consultations concerning Chapter affairs, Gertrude took
+part in these consultations.  Daniel, peeping into the library, saw
+the four heads together over the table, and heard his daughter's
+voice suggesting this and that.  Invitations to various social
+functions came, and it was Gertrude who urged acceptance of these
+invitations.  Captain Dan's pleas for quiet evenings together at
+home went for nought.
+
+"You needn't go, Daddy," said Gertrude.  "Mother and I know you
+don't care for such things.  She and I can go without you."
+
+"Go without me?  The idea!  Look pretty, wouldn't it, to have you
+two chasin' around nights all by yourself, without a man to look
+after you!"
+
+"Oh, Cousin Percy will go with us.  He is always obliging that way.
+Cousin Percy will go, I am sure."
+
+The captain was equally sure.  Cousin Percy was altogether too
+willing to go anywhere, at any time, provided Miss Dott went also.
+This very obvious fact did not add to Daniel's peace of mind.
+Rather than have his family escorted by its newest member, he
+resolved to sacrifice his own inclinations and go himself.
+
+
+
+Miss Canby--the blonde young woman who played the piano at the
+Black home on the night of the dinner--issued invitations for an
+"At Home" in her apartments.  All the Dott household--Mr.
+Hungerford included--were invited.  Mrs. Black, who came to call,
+was enthusiastic.  Her jealousy of Serena, which had manifested
+itself on the night of the latter's appointment as an Atterbury
+delegate, had apparently disappeared.  She was again the dear
+friend and counselor, with all the old cordiality and a good deal
+of the old condescension.
+
+This condescension, however, was confined to Serena and Captain
+Dan.  Toward Cousin Percy she was extremely polite, but never
+patronizing, perhaps because that gentleman was so languidly at
+ease in her presence.  He listened to her conversation with
+apparent interest, but his answers, gravely delivered, were at
+times a trifle sarcastic.  She seemed to be a bit afraid of Cousin
+Percy, afraid and somewhat suspicious.
+
+To Gertrude she was gushingly friendly, overwhelmingly so, and the
+friendship was, to all outward seeming, returned.  Daniel, who had
+gathered from his daughter's previous remarks that she disliked the
+great Annette, was surprised and dismayed.
+
+"For goodness sakes, Gertie," he demanded, "what did you kiss her
+for?  Anybody'd think she was somebody near and dear that you
+hadn't laid eyes on for ten years.  And she was here only
+yesterday.  Do you love her so much you have to hug her every time
+you see her?"
+
+Gertrude laughed.  "Do you think I do?" she asked.
+
+"I don't know what to think.  It's a mighty sudden love, that's all
+I've got to say.  Do you want her here ALL the time?"
+
+"Well, when she is here I know where she is."
+
+"So does anybody within hearin'.  I never saw such a change in a
+person as there is in you.  And all inside of a week.  You used to
+go out of the room when that Black woman came into it.  Now you
+kiss her when she comes."
+
+"No, Daddy; I kiss her when she goes."
+
+With which puzzling statement the interview ended.
+
+B. Phelps accompanied his wife when the latter called to discuss
+the Canby invitation.  His coming was unusual, the Dotts had seen
+comparatively little of him since their arrival in Scarford.
+Daniel was glad he came.  Black and he were not altogether
+congenial; the captain would not have chosen him as an intimate;
+but at least there would be someone present with whom he could
+exchange a word.  As B. Phelps did not care for Chapters and "At
+Homes" any more than he did, there was that bond between them.
+
+Mr. Hungerford was, for a wonder, not in when the callers came.  He
+went out very little nowadays, except when Miss Dott and her mother
+went; then he was always ready to go.
+
+Annette declared that the Canby "At Home" was certain to be a most
+unusual affair.  "So--er--well, so different," she explained.
+"Miss Canby is a very unusual woman, a unique woman, and her
+affairs are always as unique as she is.  So truly Bohemian.  I
+adore Bohemians, don't you, Gertrude?"
+
+Gertrude said she did.  "I don't know that I've met a great many,"
+she added, "but I'm sure they must be very enjoyable."
+
+"Oh, they are!  And Miss Canby is one.  The very first time I
+attended a gathering at her home I said to myself:  'THIS is true
+Bohemianism.'"
+
+Captain Dan was astonished.
+
+"Why!" he exclaimed, "Miss Canby's folks came from Down-East
+somewheres--Bangor, Maine, I think 'twas.  She told me so,
+herself."
+
+The remark was received in various ways, by various individuals.
+Serena frowned; Gertrude bit her lip; B. Phelps Black burst into a
+roar of laughter.
+
+"I did not mean my statement literally, Captain Dott," explained
+Annette in gracious toleration.  "But when people are independent
+and free from the usual conventionalities, as Miss Canby is, we
+speak of them as Bohemians.  It is an--er--a term among artists and
+musicians, I believe."
+
+Daniel understood little or nothing of this.  He understood
+perfectly well, however, that he had blundered somehow, a glance at
+his wife's face told him that.  Gertrude smiled at him kindly and
+observed:  "Father is like myself, his acquaintance in Bohemia has
+been limited."
+
+Captain Dan muttered that he guessed likely that was so, adding
+that he had an Armenian steward once who was a pretty good fellow.
+Then he subsided.  Serena took up the conversation, changing the
+subject to the ever fruitful one of her beloved Chapter.  In a
+moment the two ladies were deep in a discussion concerning the
+election of National officers for the Legion, an election which was
+to take place in Boston a few months later.  Gertrude joined in the
+discussion, a proceeding which her father noticed with apprehension.
+
+Mr. Black accepted an invitation to smoke, and he and Captain Dan
+went into the library.  After the cigars were lighted, B. Phelps,
+lowering his voice so as not to be heard in the adjoining room,
+said suddenly:
+
+"Dan, is that daughter of yours going off her head like the rest of
+the females?"
+
+Daniel was indignant.
+
+"Off her head!" he repeated.  "Gertie!  She's as smart and sensible
+a girl as ever lived.  I say so, even if she is my daughter.  What
+are you talkin' about?"
+
+Mr. Black waved his hand.  "Keep your hair on, Dan," he counselled
+pleasantly.  "I like Gertrude, always have.  I always thought she
+was as sensible as she is pretty, and that's saying something.  But
+what has got into her since she got here in Scarford?  You used to
+tell me she didn't care anything for society and all the rest of
+it; now she seems to be as daffy as her--well, as my wife, if you
+like that better."
+
+"Daffy!  See here, Barney Black, I--"
+
+"Hush!  Don't begin to yell or we'll have that hen convention in
+the parlor down on us.  I'm not finding any fault with your
+daughter.  I'm only talking for her good and yours.  What does she
+care about this confounded Chapter foolishness?"
+
+"She don't care nothin' about it."
+
+"Doesn't she?  She seems to be mighty interested in that talk
+they're having in there now.  And she was as joyful as the rest of
+'em over this Canby woman's 'At Home.'"
+
+The captain was quite aware of the apparent joy; and Gertrude's
+growing interest in her mother's Chapter and its members was too
+obvious to be denied.  Nevertheless, he tried to deny it.
+
+"Oh, that's nothin'," he declared.  "She and Serena have always
+been plannin' together over things, and this Chapter's like the
+rest, that's all.  As for the 'At Home,' why--why--well, Gertie's
+young, and young folks generally like a good time."
+
+"A good time!  Great Scott!  Have you ever been to that Canby
+apartment and seen the crowd that--No, of course you haven't.  Dan,
+if my wife heard me she'd take my head off, but you're an old
+friend of mine and I like your daughter.  Listen to me:  Don't let
+Gertrude go to that 'At Home' if you can help it."
+
+"Don't let her!  How am I goin' to help it?"
+
+"I don't know.  Keep her in the house.  Lock the door and hide the
+key.  I would.  If she was my daughter I'd--I'd chloroform her.
+Hanged if I wouldn't!"
+
+Captain Dan's indignation was rapidly changing to alarm.
+
+"See here, Barney," he demanded, "what are you tryin' to say,
+anyhow?  What's wrong with this Miss Canby?  Out with it."
+
+"Nothing's wrong with her, so far as I know.  And yet there isn't
+anything right.  She's good enough, I guess, and she can play the
+piano like a streak, but she's a fool.  She and the gang she is
+with are bleached-haired, frowzy-headed idiots, who hope they are
+Bohemians--whatever that is.  They like to do what they call
+unusual things; they like to shock people--think it's smart.  Don't
+let your wife or Gertrude--Gertie, especially--get in with that
+crowd.  They don't belong there.  And there's something else."
+
+He hesitated.  Daniel, trembling with anxiety, urged him to
+continue.
+
+"What is it?" he begged.  "What is the somethin' else?"
+
+"Oh, nothing.  It isn't my business anyhow.  I ought to keep
+still."
+
+"Keep still!  After sayin' as much as you have?  You go ahead or
+I'll shake it out of you one word at a time.  Heave ahead now!  I'm
+waitin'."
+
+"Well, then, don't get mad.  Remember I'm saying it merely as a
+friend.  Is Gertie engaged to be married?"
+
+"Sartin she is.  To a fine fellow, too.  What of it?"
+
+"Why, this:  If she is engaged why is she trotting about with this
+precious cousin of yours--this Percy Hungerford?"
+
+Captain Dan started violently.  He had asked himself that very
+question many times during the week which had just passed.  To have
+someone else ask it, however, was too much.  He bristled up like an
+angry cat.
+
+"By Godfreys!" he sputtered, "what do you mean?  Do you mean to
+hint--"
+
+"I'm not hinting anything.  Be quiet, or I'll stop right here.
+What do you know about Hungerford, anyway?  Why is he here at your
+house?"
+
+"Here!  Why--why, he's here 'cause we asked him to stay.  He's on
+his vacation and he's just makin' us a visit.  As to knowin"
+anything about him, what do you mean by that?  Do YOU know anything
+about him?"
+
+"Not much.  Neither does anyone else; that's the queer part of it.
+While old lady Dott--your Aunt Lavinia--occupied this house, he was
+here a good deal.  He didn't do anything then, except to be a
+general high-flyer around town with a few chums like Monty Holway,
+who is another gay young bird with money.  After Mrs. Dott went
+abroad to live, he left Scarford and went to Providence a while;
+after that to Boston and New York, and various places.  He had the
+reputation of being something of a sport, and in with a fast set.
+Now, all at once, he comes back here and settles down on--with you
+and your wife.  What did he do that for?"
+
+"I--I don't know.  He didn't intend to settle.  Says he didn't,
+anyway.  As for bein' a sport--well, he's told us about that, told
+Serena the whole yarn.  He owned up that he never took life very
+seriously while Aunt Laviny lived; had plenty of money and didn't
+have to.  But now it's different.  He's realized that he must work,
+same as other folks, and he's doin' it.  He works for some magazine
+or other, doin' what he calls literary work."
+
+"Humph!  What magazine is it?"
+
+"I don't know.  I never asked."
+
+"Well, all right.  I tell you, honestly, Dan, there's a feeling
+that he is working you and the family for easy marks.  You give him
+a good home and plenty to eat and smoke and it's a pretty soft
+thing for him.  As to work--Humph!"
+
+Daniel hesitated now.  He had had faint but uneasy suspicions along
+this very line, although these, like other suspicions and
+misgivings, he had kept to himself.  And Serena was such a firm
+believer in Cousin Percy; at the least hint against that young
+gentleman she flew to arms.  The captain remembered this and his
+strong sense of loyalty to his wife caused him to remonstrate.  He
+shook his head.
+
+"No, no," he said, "you're wrong there, Barney, sure you are.  Why,
+Percy has done a lot of writin' and such since he's been here.  He
+goes to his room 'most every afternoon to write, and he's helped
+Serena with her Chapter papers and speeches more than you could
+imagine.  As for Gertie's trottin' around with him, that's just
+foolishness.  She's gone to picture shows and such when he asked
+her to, but that's only because she likes such things and wanted
+company her own age.  It's all foolishness, I tell you.  If anybody
+says 'tain't, you tell 'em I say they're lyin'.  By Godfreys! if
+they say it to me I'll--"
+
+"There! there!  Keep your hair on, I tell you."
+
+"'Tis on, what there is left of it.  But, Barney, what sort of talk
+have you been givin' me?  If Hungerford ain't all right, how is it
+that he knows so many folks in this town?  How is it that he's
+invited everywhere, to all sorts of places, into everybody's
+houses?  Invitations!  Why, he gets more'n we do, and," with a
+sigh, "land knows that's enough, nowadays."
+
+B. Phelps grunted contemptuously.  "It is easy enough to get
+invitations," he observed.  "When you've been in this town as long
+as I have you'll know that any young fellow, who is as good looking
+and entertaining as he is, will be invited to all sorts of things.
+The girls like him, so do their mothers--some of them.  But there!
+I may be all wrong.  Anyhow, I mustn't stay with you any longer or
+Annette'll be suspicious that you and I are knocking her dashed
+Chapter.  I've told you this for your own good.  Gertrude's a bully
+girl; I always liked her--wished a good many times I had a daughter
+like her.  I should hate to see her get in wrong like--well, like
+some people you and I know.  You keep her at home as much as you
+can.  Good Lord, man!" with sudden vehemence, "do you want your
+house to get to be an empty d----d hole, only fit to sleep in,
+like--like--Yes, Annette, I'm coming."
+
+This conversation remained in Captain Dan's head for days.  It
+disturbed him greatly.  Several times he made up his mind to speak
+to Serena concerning it, but each time he changed his mind.  He
+even thought of writing a note to John Doane, urging the latter to
+run down to Scarford for a few days, but he was fearful that to do
+this might be a mistake.  John would tell Gertrude, and she might
+not like it.  Besides, Gertrude had said that she expected John to
+come before very long.  So Daniel did nothing further than to
+remonstrate mildly concerning the acceptance of Miss Canby's
+invitation.  As he gave no reason for his objection, other than the
+general one that he was tired and did not care about it, his
+remonstrances were unheeded.  He need not go unless he wished, said
+Serena, she and Gertrude and Cousin Percy could go and he could
+stay at home and rest.  Gertrude said the same.  When the evening
+came, the whole family went, the captain included.
+
+Annette had characterized the gifted Miss Canby as unusual, and the
+social affairs given by her as unique.  After the first half hour
+in the "Bohemian" apartments, Daniel would have agreed with her,
+although his opinion might have been more emphatically expressed.
+Miss Canby WAS unusual, her apartments were unusual, and the
+"Bohemians" there gathered most unusual of all.
+
+Gertrude, strolling about in the company of a young gentleman--not
+a Bohemian, but, like herself, merely a commonplace guest--found
+her father seated in a corner, sheltered by a Japanese screen and
+an imitation palm, and peering out at the assembled company with a
+bewildered expression on his face.
+
+"Well, Daddy," she asked, "are you having a good time?"
+
+Daniel, who had not noticed her approach, started and looked up.
+
+"Hey?" he asked.  "A good time!  My soul and body!  Yes, I'm havin'
+a good time.  I haven't had a better one since I went to the
+sideshow at the circus.  Who's that long-legged critter with the
+lay-down collar and the ribbon necktie?  That one over there,
+talking to the woman with the hair that don't match.  What ails
+him?"
+
+Gertrude looked and laughed.  "That is Mr. Abercrombie, the poet,"
+she said.  "Nothing ails him; he is a genius, that's all."
+
+"Humph!  That must be bad enough, then.  What--"
+
+He stopped.  His daughter's escort had caught his attention.  The
+young man's face was familiar.
+
+"Why!" he faltered, "isn't this--"
+
+"This is Mr. Holway, Daddy.  I wanted you to meet him."
+
+Her tone was quite serious, but there was an odd expression in her
+eye.  Mr. Holway, blond, immaculate and blase, bowed.  Then he,
+too, started.
+
+"Eh!" he exclaimed.  "Why, by Jove!"
+
+Captain Dan nodded.  "Yes," he observed, quietly.  "Well, I'm much
+obliged to you, Gertie, but Mr. Holway and I have met before."
+
+Gertrude's surprise, real or assumed, was great.
+
+"Have you?" she cried.  "Why, how odd!  When?"
+
+Mr. Holway, himself, answered.  He seemed confused and his
+explanation was hurriedly given.
+
+"Your father and I met one afternoon at--at the Palatine," he
+stammered.  "I--I should have known.  Tacks told me, but--but I had
+forgotten.  I'm ashamed of my part in that, Mr. Dott.  I really am.
+I owe you an apology.  I hope you--I hope--"
+
+Captain Dan nodded.  "All right," he said briefly.  "Don't say any
+more about it."
+
+"But--but I hope you and Miss Dott won't--won't think--"
+
+"We won't.  I won't, anyway.  I stopped thinking about it long ago.
+Well, Gertie, what have you been doin'?  'Most time to go home, is
+it?"
+
+"Time to go home?  Why, Daddy, we've just got here.  We haven't
+been here an hour yet."
+
+"Haven't we?  I want to know!  Seemed a good deal longer than that
+to me.  All right, don't you worry about me.  I can stand it, I
+guess.  Where's your mother and--and Cousin Percy?"
+
+"Mother is in the next room with Mrs. Lake and some more of the
+Chapter members.  Cousin Percy is--Oh, here he comes now."
+
+Hungerford appeared, strolling in their direction.  He seemed
+surprised when he saw his relatives in company with Mr. Holway.
+
+"Hello, Monty!" he said.  "You here?  How are you?"
+
+The two young men shook hands.  Gertrude smiled upon them both.
+
+"Father and Mr. Holway were renewing acquaintanceship," she
+observed, cheerfully.  "It seems that they have met before."
+
+Cousin Percy's acknowledgment of this statement was a brief "Oh,
+indeed!"  He and his friend exchanged glances.
+
+"The--er--performance is about to begin, I believe," announced Mr.
+Hungerford.  "Our hostess has--er--reluctantly consented to be led
+to the piano.  Shall you and I adjourn to the next room, Cousin?"
+
+Gertrude shook her head.
+
+"Oh, thank you," she said, "but Mr. Holway has been telling me the
+most interesting stories about Scarford and the people in it, and I
+want to hear the rest.  He is dreadfully sarcastic; I should not
+listen, I know, but I want to.  Come, Mr. Holway."
+
+She moved away, the flattered "Monty" in her wake.  Mr. Hungerford
+gazed after them.  He appeared not altogether pleased.
+
+"Very sociable, chatty chap, that friend of yours, I should judge,"
+observed Captain Dan drily.
+
+"Um-hm!" grunted Cousin Percy.  "Been chatting to you, has he?"
+
+"No-o, not much this time.  But you remember I've had the pleasure
+before."
+
+Mr. Hungerford doubtless remembered; he looked as if he did.  Then
+he, too, strolled away.  The captain, left alone, indulged in a
+quiet chuckle.
+
+Miss Canby's rendition on the piano, of what she was pleased to
+call "A sweet little thing of Tschaikovsky's--one of my favorites,"
+was enthusiastically applauded, and she obliged with another, and
+still another.  Then Mr. Abercrombie was prevailed upon to read one
+of his own outpourings of genius, a poem called "The Tigress," in
+which someone, presumably the author, described the torments
+involved in his adoration of a feminine person with "jetty brows
+and lambent eyes," whose kiss was like "a viper's sting" and who
+had, so to speak, raised the very dickens with his feelings.  He
+read it with passionate fervor, and Captain Dan, listening, decided
+that the Tigress must be a most unpleasant person.
+
+However, judging by the acclaim of the rest of the audience, she
+was a huge success, and the poet was coaxed into reading again,
+this time something which he had labeled "Soul Beams," and in which
+"love" rhymed with "dove" and "heart" with "dart" and "bliss" with
+"kiss" in truly orthodox fashion.  Mr. Abercrombie's poetic gems
+were not appreciated by the mercenary and groveling minions who
+edited magazines, but here, amid his fellow Bohemians, they were
+more than appreciated, a fact which their creator announced
+gratified him more than he could express.  And yet, he seemed to
+have little difficulty and less hesitation in expressing most
+things.
+
+Daniel was not enthusiastic over the poems.  He could not
+understand a great deal of them, but he understood quite enough.
+When B. Phelps Black winked at him from his seat at the other side
+of the room, he did not return the wink, although he knew perfectly
+well what it meant.
+
+The poems were bad enough, according to his figuring, but when Miss
+Beatrice Dusante tripped into the circle to slip and twist and
+slide and gyrate in "one of her delightful Grecian dances," he
+found himself looking about for a convenient exit.  Discovering
+none he remained where he was and blushed for the company.
+
+The Bohemians, however, did not blush; neither, to his amazement,
+did Serena, who looked on and applauded with the rest.  He found
+some comfort in the absence of his daughter, who was not among the
+seated guests, but, at last, even this comfort was dispelled.  He
+caught a glimpse of Gertrude, still accompanied by the attentive
+Mr. Holway, standing in the back row.  He tried to catch her eye
+and, by frowns and shakes of the head, to indicate his disapproval
+of the dance and her presence as a witness.  He did not succeed in
+attracting her attention, but when, a moment later, she and her
+escort moved off, he was somewhat relieved.  Gertrude looked as if
+she did not care for Miss Dusante's dancing any more than he did.
+Mr. Hungerford, also, did not appear interested.  He was looking at
+Miss Dott and "Monty," and there was a frown on his face.
+
+Upon their return, after they were together in the library at home,
+Daniel's shocked indignation burst forth.
+
+"Well!" he declared, "that's enough.  That's the limit, that is!
+What kind of a gang IS that, anyway?"
+
+His wife regarded him with astonishment.  Gertrude, after one
+glance at his face, turned and walked to the other side of the
+room, where she busied herself with a book on the table.  Cousin
+Percy smiled broadly.
+
+"Gang!" repeated Serena.  "Gang!  Why, what are you talking about,
+Daniel?"
+
+"I'm talkin' about that gang at that Canby woman's place to-night.
+I never saw such a brazen gang anywhere.  Haven't they got ANY
+respectability?  How'd they come to let that dancin' thing in
+there?  Couldn't they see her before she got in?  Couldn't they
+stop her?  Why--"
+
+Serena interrupted.  "Stop her!" she repeated.  "How could they
+stop her?  She was an invited guest."
+
+"Who invited her?  That's what I want to know.  Who invited her?"
+
+"Miss Canby, I suppose.  She is a friend of hers."
+
+"A friend!  A FRIEND!"
+
+"Yes.  Now, Daniel, don't be silly.  I know what you mean, and I
+must say I sympathize with you just a little.  Annette explained to
+me afterwards though, so I suppose it is all right.  Annette says
+that this Miss Dusante's dancing is all the rage now.  She has made
+a study of the ancient Grecian dances and she does them everywhere.
+She is paid high prices for it, too."
+
+"I don't doubt it.  I should think she'd want to be.  Did you see
+the way she was dressed?  I never--"
+
+"Hush, Daniel!  That was the old Greek costume.  Miss Canby told me
+all about it; the old Greeks used to dress like that."
+
+"They did!  Then it didn't take 'em long.  Brazen thing!  Why!"
+with a sudden turn upon his daughter, "Gertie--Gertie Dott, stop
+fussin' with that book and listen to me.  You were there; I saw you
+lookin' on.  YOU didn't like that Greek dancin', did you?"
+
+Gertrude hesitated.  Her cheeks were red and, for a moment, she
+seemed to find it difficult to speak.  Then, after a quick look at
+her mother, she answered, calmly:
+
+"Like it!  Why not, Daddy?  It is all the rage, just as Mother
+says, and it is certainly graceful.  I rather think I should like
+to learn it myself.  I understand Miss Dusante gives lessons."
+
+Daniel's mouth opened and remained open.  Cousin Percy stared at
+the speaker.  Even Serena, defender of the dances of the ancient
+Greeks, looked shocked.
+
+"Why, Gertie!" she cried.  "Gertie!  You! the idea!"
+
+"Why not, Mother?"
+
+"Why not!  I should think you would know why not.  I never heard
+you speak like that before."
+
+"I never saw any dances like those before.  I have heard about
+them, of course, but I never saw them.  We never did--you or father
+or any of us--a great many things that we are doing now.  We are
+learning all the time; that's what you told me, Mother.  I never
+went to a Bohemian 'At Home' before."
+
+Serena's eyes snapped.  "Well, you'll never go to another one," she
+declared, "if it's going to have this effect on you."
+
+The young lady smiled.  "Why, of course I shall," she cried.  "I
+want to learn, just as you do, Mother.  And I mean to.  Good-
+night!"
+
+She left the room and they heard her ascending the stairs.  Daniel
+and Serena looked at each other.  Cousin Percy looked at them both.
+
+Captain and Mrs. Dott had a long talk before retiring.  The captain
+derived some satisfaction from the talk; it seemed to him that
+their daughter's declaration of independence had startled Serena
+somewhat.  She even went so far as to admit that, in spite of Mrs.
+Black's explanations and gracious commendations, she, herself, had
+not been impressed by Miss Canby's guests.  She and Gertrude would
+have an interview in the morning, she declared.
+
+Captain Dan waited hopefully for the result of that interview.  The
+hope was crushed when Serena reported to him.
+
+"It is all right, Daniel," said Mrs. Dott.  "I guess Gertie didn't
+really mean what she said about taking lessons of the Dusante
+woman.  She thought the dances graceful, and they were, of course.
+But Gertie is older now--yes, she is older, and she expects to have
+her own way more than she has had it.  She said a lot of things to
+me, things that she hasn't said before.  It seems that when she
+first came home she was inclined to think I had exaggerated when I
+wrote her about the lovely people here in Scarford, and the
+Chapter, and the brilliant women in it.  Now, she sees I was right.
+She has helped me a good deal already with my Chapter work, and she
+means to do more.  She is going to join the Chapter herself.  She--
+why, what's the matter?"
+
+Daniel had made a choking noise in his throat; he appeared to be
+strangling.
+
+"Noth--nothin'," he gasped.  "Nothin' much.  I'm all right.  But--
+but you said--why, how can Gertie join the Chapter?  She ain't
+goin' to stay here.  She's goin' back to college soon as her
+vacation's over."
+
+Serena shook her head.  There was just a shade of doubt, almost of
+trouble, in her voice as she answered.
+
+"No-o," she said, "no, Daniel, she isn't.  She isn't going back any
+more.  She thinks it isn't necessary."
+
+"Not necessary!  Why, how you talk, Serena!  Not necessary to
+finish out her last term!  What do you mean?  One of the things
+that troubled me most, back there in Trumet before we was rich, was
+that I might not afford for her to finish out at that college, and
+now, when I can, she ain't goin'.  I say she is.  I say she's got
+to."
+
+"I don't believe that will make any difference, Daniel.  She seems
+to have made up her mind.  I'm kind of sorry, I must say, but she
+is obstinate.  She says it is so much more interesting here that
+she is going to stay.  You can talk to her, if you want to, but I
+don't think it will do any good."
+
+Serena was right; although Captain Dan did talk to his daughter his
+arguments and persuasions were quite useless.
+
+"No, Daddy," said Gertrude, "I am going to stay right here.  I told
+you that if I were needed I should come home.  I have come home and
+I am needed.  I shall not go back.  It is only the last half term,
+anyway."
+
+"Yes, but then's when the girls have all their best times, all the
+dances and--and entertainments and society times.  You said so.  Do
+you want to miss all those?"
+
+Gertrude smiled.  "Oh," she observed, "I expect to have a great
+many 'society times,' as you call them, right here in Scarford.
+There seems to be no lack of them, and Mother is decidedly in the
+swim.  It's no use, Daddy; my mind is made up.  Don't you worry, it
+is all right."
+
+"Well--well, I--I must say--See here, are you really going to join
+that Chapter thing?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You are!  After all you said--"
+
+"Yes, no matter what I may have said."
+
+"By--by time!  I don't know what to do with you.  I--I set a lot of
+store by you, Gertie.  I kind of banked on you.  And now--"
+
+Gertrude's expression changed.  She patted his cheek.
+
+"Keep on banking on me, Daddy dear," she whispered, "perhaps I'm
+not altogether hopeless, even yet."
+
+But her father, for once, refused to believe her.
+
+"I don't like it," he declared.  "And other folks don't like it,
+either.  Why, Barney Black got after me only the other day about
+you.  He wanted to know why you--you, an engaged girl--was cruisin'
+around so much with this Cousin Percy of ours.  He thought 'twas
+queer.  I said--"
+
+Gertrude rose to her feet.  Her arm was snatched from the captain's
+shoulder so quickly that he jumped.
+
+"Daddy!" she cried, her cheeks blazing, "do you mean to say that
+you have been discussing me with--with Mr. Black?"
+
+"I didn't start it, he did.  He said--"
+
+"I don't care what he said.  Oh, the impertinence of it!  And you
+listened! listened and believed--"
+
+"I didn't say I believed it."
+
+"You did believe it, though.  I can see you did.  I shan't try to
+comfort you any more.  You deserve all that is coming to you.
+And," with a deliberate nod, "it is coming."
+
+"Comin'!  It's HERE!  Gertie, there's another thing:  What about
+John?  What do you think John would say if he knew you weren't
+goin' back to college?"
+
+Gertrude looked at him.  Her lips twitched.
+
+"Oh," she said, mischievously, "as to that--well, Daddy, you see,
+he DOESN'T know it."
+
+That afternoon Daniel wrote a letter.  He said nothing to anyone,
+not even Serena, about the letter, but wrote it in the solitude of
+the library and posted it with his own hands.  Just before sealing
+the envelope he added this postscript:  "Whether you come or not,
+don't tell a soul that I wrote you this.  And, if you do come, just
+let them think it was all on your own hook.  THIS IS IMPORTANT."
+
+On Saturday evening there was to be a meeting of the Chapter, and
+on Tuesday Serena returned from committee with the joyful news that
+Gertrude was to be admitted to membership at that meeting.  The
+young lady expressed herself as delighted.  Cousin Percy extended
+congratulations.  Captain Dan said nothing.  Later, he visited
+Azuba in the kitchen, and there he received another shock.
+
+Azuba was not, as usual, busy with her cooking or scrubbing.  She
+was seated in a chair by the window, reading a paper.  She looked
+up as he entered, but immediately resumed her reading.  The captain
+waited for her to speak.  As a general thing he did not have to
+wait.
+
+"Hello, Zuba," he hailed.
+
+Azuba turned a page of the paper.  She did not answer.
+
+"Hello!" he hailed again.  "What's the matter, Zuba?  Gone into a
+trance, have you?"
+
+"Hey?"  Azuba did look up then, but at once looked down again.
+"Hey?" she repeated.  "No, I ain't in no trance.  I'm readin',
+that's all."
+
+"I should think that was enough, if it fixes you so you can't speak
+to anybody.  Must be mighty interestin' readin'."
+
+"Hey?  Interestin'?  I guess 'tis interestin'!  It's more'n that,
+it's upliftin', too.  I'm just beginnin' to realize what I am."
+
+"That so?  Well, what are you?"
+
+"I'm a woman, that's what I am."
+
+She made the declaration with the air of one imparting news of a
+startling discovery.  Daniel laughed.
+
+"Is that so!" he exclaimed.  "Well, well!  I want to know!  I
+always suspected it, Zuba, but I'm glad you told me, just the same.
+Does it say so in that paper?"
+
+Azuba rose from her chair.  She did not laugh; she was intensely
+serious.
+
+"It says a lot of things," she announced, "a lot of things I never
+thought of afore.  I don't mean that exactly.  I've thought of 'em,
+but I never knew how to make anything out of my thoughts.  I just
+kept thinkin' and let it go at that.  Now, I'm beginnin' to
+realize.  I'm a woman, I am, a free woman.  That paper is for free
+women.  Have you read it, Cap'n Daniel?"
+
+Captain Dan took the paper which she extended to him at arm's
+length.  He recognized it immediately.  It was "The Woman's Voice,"
+official organ of the National Guild of Ladies of Honor.  Serena
+was a subscriber.
+
+He glanced at the paper and tossed it on the table.
+
+"Yes," he said shortly, "I've read some of it."
+
+Azuba seized the discarded journal as if it were a precious
+treasure, a thing to be treated tenderly and with reverence.
+
+"Some of it!" she repeated.  "Humph!  I'd read all of it, if I was
+you.  'Twould do the men good if they was made to read every number
+ten times over.  It's a wonderful paper.  It's opened MY eyes, I
+can tell you that."
+
+It had, apparently, opened her mouth as well, although to do that
+required no great urging at any time.  She went on to preach the
+glories of the "Voice," and concluded by reading an editorial
+which, like Mrs. Lake's addresses at Chapter meetings, contained a
+great many words and, to the captain's mind, little understanding.
+
+He listened, fidgeting impatiently, to perhaps two-thirds of the
+editorial, and then he interrupted.
+
+"Hold on!  Heave to!" he ordered.  "For the land sakes, Zuba,
+what's set you goin' like this?  Are YOU goin' to--to--"
+
+"To what?  Am I goin' to what?"
+
+"Are you goin' to 'advance' or whatever you call it?  What ails all
+you women, anyway?"
+
+"What ails us?  Hain't I been readin' you what ails us?"
+
+"You've been readin' a whole lot, but I've heard it all before.
+You want to be 'free'!  Confound it, you ARE free, ain't you?  You
+want to take your place in the world!  Why, you've had the front
+place ever since Eve got Adam to eat the apple.  She was skipper of
+that craft, wasn't she!  And us men--most of us, anyhow--have been
+fo'mast hands ever since.  What is it you want?  Want to vote?  Go
+ahead and vote.  I'M willin'."
+
+But Azuba laughed scornfully.
+
+"Vote!" she repeated.  "I don't care whether I vote or not."
+
+"Then what do you want?"
+
+"We want--" Azuba hesitated, "we want--what this paper says we
+want.  And," with determination, "we're goin' to have it."
+
+"All right, have it, then!  Meantime, let's have dinner.  It's
+pretty nigh half-past five, and the table ain't set.  And," with a
+sniff, "there's somethin' burnin' somewheres, I smell it."
+
+This statement had an effect.  Azuba dropped the precious paper and
+sprang to open the oven door.
+
+"Well!" she declared, "it's all right.  'Twas that cranberry pie,
+and 'twas only beginnin' to scorch.  It's all right."
+
+"Glad to hear it.  Now, say, Zuba, you take my advice; you're a
+practical, sensible woman, I always said so.  Don't you get to be
+silly, at your age."
+
+It was an impolitic remark.  Azuba bristled.
+
+"At my age!" she repeated.  "Humph!  I ain't so much older than
+some folks in this kitchen, nor in the rest of the house, either.
+What do you mean by silly?"
+
+"I mean--I mean--well, I mean don't you get to joinin' lodges and
+readin' papers and racin' out every night in the week to somethin'
+or other.  It ain't worth while.  It's silly--just silly."
+
+"Oh, is it!  Well, other women do it.  Your wife's been doin' it
+ever since we got here.  And now Gertie's startin' in.  You always
+made your brags that she was about as sensible, smart a girl as
+ever drawed breath.  _I_ ain't got money; nobody's left ME a cart
+load of dollars and a swell front house.  But I've got rights and
+feelin's.  I'm a woman, a free woman, and if it ain't silly for
+Mrs. Dott and Gertie to want to advance and--and so on, I cal'late
+'tain't silly for me either.  Perhaps you'd like to have me tell
+Serena that you said she was silly.  Shall I?"
+
+Daniel did not answer, but his look was answer sufficient.  Azuba
+smiled triumphantly.
+
+"Practical," she sneered.  "No, Cap'n Daniel, I ain't been
+practical so far, but I'm goin' to be.  I'm a-goin' to be.  You
+watch me."
+
+Her employer's guns were spiked.  He marched out of the kitchen,
+slamming the door viciously.  The library was tenanted by Cousin
+Percy, who was taking a nap on the lounge.  Upstairs, Gertrude was
+helping her mother with a "report" of some kind.  Hapgood, the
+butler, was in the hall, and he bowed respectfully.
+
+"Yes, sir," he said.  "Did you wish anything, sir?"
+
+"No," snarled Captain Dan, and went out for a walk.  This was the
+last straw.  If Azuba was going crazy the situation was hopeless
+indeed.  And he had received no reply to his letter.
+
+Hapgood, left alone in the hall, grinned, strolled into the library
+and, regardless of Mr. Hungerford's presence, filled his pockets
+with cigars from his employer's box.  Downstairs, in the kitchen,
+Azuba was busy getting dinner.  At intervals she burst out
+laughing.
+
+That evening Mr. "Monty" Holway called.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+Mr. Holway's call was, ostensibly, a call upon the Dott family in
+general, but it was to Gertrude that he addressed most of his
+conversation.  The young lady was very affable and gracious.  She
+expressed herself as glad to see him, and she appeared to be.
+"Monty" was a voluble person, and he talked a great deal, although
+a critic might possibly have considered his remarks more remarkable
+for quantity than quality.  In the presence of Captain Dan he
+appeared a trifle ill at ease, a fact which the captain attributed
+to circumstances attending their first meeting.  Serena seemed
+somewhat surprised at the call.  She regarded her daughter and Mr.
+Holway with an odd expression, and, so it seemed to her husband,
+was apparently dissatisfied or disturbed.  At all events she said
+little and, when addressed, answered absent-mindedly.
+
+Mr. Hungerford was the most surprised of all.  He had been out, and
+when, returning, he found his friend in the drawing-room, his
+greeting was not too cordial.  Mr. Holway also seemed embarrassed,
+and a bit on his guard.
+
+"Hello, Tacks!" he said, rising and extending his hand.
+
+Cousin Percy did not see the hand, or, if he saw it, did not offer
+his own.
+
+"Hello," he said, gruffly.  Then, after a quick glance at the
+quartette in the drawing-room, he pulled forward a chair and,
+without waiting for an invitation, seated himself.
+
+"How goes it?" inquired Monty.
+
+"All right enough.  Oh--er--Gertrude, I've found out about that
+recital affair.  It is next Wednesday afternoon.  I have arranged
+for us to go.  Rather difficult business to manage, at such a late
+date, but I managed to pull it off."
+
+Gertrude smilingly declared that she was much obliged.  "I don't
+know, of course," she added, "what Mother's plans for that day may
+be, but if she is not busy I'm sure we shall be pleased to go.
+Thank you for thinking of us."
+
+Mr. Hungerford hesitated.  "Well," he said, "to tell you the truth,
+I had supposed that Mrs. Dott might be rather busy.  It is your
+committee meeting afternoon, isn't it, Mrs. Dott? and so I arranged
+for only two.  Awfully stupid of me, I know."
+
+"Oh, that will be all right.  You and Mother can go, then.  I don't
+mind at all.  Really, I don't.  And Mother is so fond of music.  It
+is all right, Mother," turning to Serena, who had been about to
+speak, "you can go just as well as not.  You must.  Never mind the
+committee meeting; I'll act as your substitute there."
+
+Cousin Percy was not overcome with joy; at least, he managed to
+restrain his ecstasy.  Mr. Holway volunteered a word.
+
+"Is it the Wainwright Recital you are talking about?" he inquired,
+eagerly.  "That's all right.  I can get cards for that.  It's a
+cinch.  I'll see that you go, Miss Dott.  By George!  I'll--I'll go
+myself.  Yes, I will, really.  We'll all go."
+
+This prompt suggestion should have cleared the air.  Somehow it did
+not.  Mr. Hungerford merely grunted.  Gertrude shook her head.
+
+"No," she said, "I think, perhaps, I had better not go, after all.
+But it is ever so nice of you to offer, Mr. Holway.  You and Cousin
+Percy can take Father and Mother.  That will be splendid."
+
+"Don't bother about me," put in Daniel, hastily.  Recitals were
+almost as distasteful as Chapter meetings or "At Homes" to his
+mind.
+
+"It won't be any bother, I'm sure," declared Gertrude.  "Will it,
+Cousin Percy?  Will it, Mr. Holway?"
+
+Both the young gentlemen murmured their pleasure at the prospect of
+acting as escorts to the elder members of the Dott family.  Serena
+said she would "see about it," she couldn't say for certain whether
+or not she would be able to attend the recital.  Captain Dan said
+nothing.
+
+The conversation dragged somewhat after this.  "Monty" and Mr.
+Hungerford addressed the greater portion of their remarks to
+Gertrude, only occasionally favoring Serena and Daniel with a word
+or question.  To each other they were very uncommunicative.  At
+last, however, after Mr. Holway had given a very full account of a
+"dinner dance" which he had recently attended, "a very exclusive
+affair, only the best people, you know," Percy, who had been
+listening impatiently, turned toward him and drawled:
+
+"I remember that dance.  Beastly tiresome, I judged it would be, so
+I sent regrets.  I heard you enjoyed yourself, old chap.  Said I
+imagined so, considering your company.  By the way, that must be
+getting quite serious, that affair of yours.  When may we expect
+the announcement?"
+
+Holway colored.  His usual facility of speech seemed to have
+deserted him.
+
+"Announcement!" he stammered.  "Announcement!  What--what--"
+
+His friend laughed.
+
+"Oh, it's all right, old man," he observed.  "Don't get excited.
+She's a charming girl.  No one blames you."
+
+"Monty" continued to sputter.  Gertrude was all excitement.
+
+"Oh, how interesting!" she said.  "Do tell us about her, Mr.
+Holway.  Do I know her?"
+
+"Know her!"  Mr. Holway's indignation was intense.  "I--I don't
+know her myself.  He's just guying, Miss Dott.  He--he thinks
+because he--he is so confoundedly fascinating, and has so many--so
+many--
+
+"Oh, that reminds me, Tacks," turning upon the smiling Hungerford,
+"I saw a friend of yours yesterday.  She looked quite desolate,
+quite broken-hearted, my word she did.  You were a little cruel
+there, weren't you, my boy?  Just a bit cruel.  Everyone expected--"
+
+He did not finish the sentence, but his expression indicated that
+much was expected.  It was Cousin Percy's turn to color.
+
+"Don't be an idiot, Monty," he snapped.  "That is, more of an idiot
+than you can help.  Don't mind him, Gertrude; he has an amazing
+idea of repartee, that's all."
+
+Serena volunteered a remark concerning the weather just then.  She
+observed that it might be raining, it had looked that way before
+dinner.  Mr. Holway possibly considered that a hint was involved;
+at any rate, he rose and announced that he must be going.  Gertrude
+begged him not to hurry, they had all enjoyed his call so much, she
+said.  Cousin Percy suddenly declared that he would accompany his
+friend on his way, a walk would do him good.  Monty expressed no
+enthusiasm at the prospect of company, but the pair left the house
+together.
+
+After they had gone, Daniel turned to his wife.
+
+"Humph!" he observed, "what sort of talk do you call that?  I
+thought those two were chums; and yet I didn't know but they was
+goin' to fight one spell.  It's a good thing you hove in that about
+the rain when you did, Serena."
+
+Serena was grave.  "Gertie," she inquired, "did you ask that young
+man to call here?"
+
+Gertrude was the picture of surprised innocence.
+
+"Ask him to call?" she repeated.  "Mr. Holway, do you mean?  I
+don't know.  I think not.  Why?"
+
+"WHY?"  Captain Dan almost shouted it.  His wife motioned him to be
+quiet.
+
+"Hush, Daniel," she said.  "You know why, Gertie, as well as I do.
+You are engaged to be married."
+
+Gertrude smiled.  "Of course I am," she answered.  "What of it?"
+
+"What OF IT?"
+
+"Hush, Daniel, hush!  Engaged girls, Gertie, are not supposed to
+have young men calling upon them."
+
+"Oh," with a shrug.  "I don't know that he was calling on me.  He
+did not ask for me when he came.  And you and Daddy were here all
+the time.  Besides, merely because I am engaged isn't any reason
+why I should retire from the world altogether, is it?  Mrs. Lake
+says--"
+
+Daniel struck the table with his fist.
+
+"Mrs. Lake!" he shouted.  "Mrs. Lake don't live with her husband.
+She's a grass widow, that's what she is."
+
+"She is one of Mother's dearest friends, and any friend of Mother's
+should be good enough for me."
+
+The captain choked.  "You--you talk to her, Serena," he stammered;
+"I can't."
+
+Serena looked more troubled than ever.
+
+"Gertie," she faltered, "if Mrs. Lake has been advising you--to--
+to--"
+
+"She hasn't advised me at all.  Now, Mother, what IS the use of all
+this?  If I have learned anything from you and your Chapter friends
+it is to be broad-minded and independent.  If Mrs. Lake is not a
+living example of independence, who is?"
+
+Serena could not seem to find an answer at the moment.  Her husband
+tried again.
+
+"Gertie Dott," he declared, "I--I don't know what to make of you,
+all at once.  And John Doane wouldn't either.  If John knew--"
+
+Gertrude interrupted.  "That's enough, Daddy," she said, firmly.
+"I am quite willing John shall know; when I am ready I shall tell
+him.  He is a dear, good fellow, in his way, but--"
+
+She hesitated.  Her parents asked a question in concert.
+
+"But what?" they demanded.
+
+"Why--why, nothing of importance.  But I am learning here in
+Scarford.  My opportunity has come, just as yours did, Mother.  I
+am a free woman and I shall not be a slave--a SLAVE to any man."
+
+With which remark, a quotation from a paper read at the most recent
+Chapter meeting, she walked from the room.  Her astonished parents
+looked at each other.  Daniel was the first to speak.
+
+"My soul and body!" he gasped.  "What--what--Serena, did you hear
+what she said?  That about John?  That he was a good fellow--in his
+way?  In his WAY!  My soul and body!"
+
+Serena shook her head.
+
+"I--I don't believe she meant it, Daniel," she said.  "I'm sure she
+didn't.  She's just a little carried away, that's all.  All this
+society--this altered social position of ours--has turned her head
+the least bit.  She didn't mean it.  I'll have another talk with
+her pretty soon."
+
+"I should say you'd better.  Serena, do you know what I've done?
+Done on my own hook, I mean.  I've written--"
+
+He paused.  The disclosure which, on the impulse of the moment, he
+had been about to make was, for him, a serious one.  He had written
+the letter "on his own hook," without telling his wife of his
+action.  What would she say if he told her now, so long afterward?
+
+"You've done?  What have you done?" asked Serena sharply.
+
+The captain still hesitated.  Before his mind was made up the front
+door opened and Cousin Percy made his appearance.  He entered the
+hall quickly, and to Mr. Hapgood--who hastened from somewhere or
+other to take his coat and hat--he said nothing, except to snarl a
+comment on the butler's slowness.  He did not speak to the Dotts
+either, but tramped savagely up the stairs.  His face, as seen by
+the electric light, was flushed and frowning.
+
+Serena turned to her husband.
+
+"How cross he looked," she said, wonderingly.  "I never saw him so
+before.  What do you suppose has happened?"
+
+Speculation concerning Cousin Percy's evident perturbation caused
+her to forget the disclosure Captain Dan had been about to make.
+By the time she remembered to ask about it the captain had decided
+not to tell.  He fabricated some excuse or other, and the excuse
+was accepted, to his great relief.
+
+None of the Dott household attended the Wainwright recital.  Mr.
+Holway called on Wednesday, just after luncheon, to say that he had
+obtained the necessary cards, but his kindness went for nought.  He
+stayed, so it seemed to Daniel, a good deal longer than was
+necessary, and Mr. Hungerford, who remained in the room every
+moment of the time, evidently thought so, too.  So did Serena.
+Gertrude, however, was very cordial, and again begged the visitor
+not to hurry.
+
+Saturday evening was that of the Chapter meeting, the meeting at
+which Gertrude was to be made a member.  That forenoon Azuba
+electrified her mistress by expressing an ardent desire to become a
+member also.  Her wish was not received with enthusiasm.
+
+"Why, what do you want to do that for, Azuba?" asked Serena in
+amazement.
+
+"Why shouldn't I want to?  You're a member, ain't you?  Gertie's
+goin' to be a member to-night, ain't she?"
+
+"Yes.  But--but--"
+
+"Well, but what?"
+
+"I didn't know you were interested in such things.  You never were
+when we lived in Trumet."
+
+Azuba dismissed the past with a scornful sniff and a wave of the
+hand.
+
+"Trumet!" she repeated.  "Trumet ain't nothin'.  Nobody's anything
+in Trumet.  We're in Scarford now, and Scarford's a progressive,
+up-to-date place.  We've all changed since we've been here, and I'm
+changin' much as anybody.  I've been hearin' your papers, when you
+read 'em to Gertie and the cap'n, and I've been readin' 'The
+Voice,' too.  Yes ma'am, I've read it and I've found out what a
+back number I've been.  But, I ain't goin' to be so no more.  I'm
+goin' to be as up-to-date as the next one, even if I do have to
+wash dishes for a livin'.  Serena--Mrs. Dott, I mean--I'd like
+first rate to join that Chapter of yours.  You put my name in to-
+night and maybe it can be voted on next meetin'."
+
+"But--but, Azuba, are you sure you know what it means?  Do you
+think your husband would want you to--"
+
+"My husband!  What's he got to do with it?  If we free women have
+got to be slaves to our husbands it's a pretty state of things, I
+must say.  You don't ask your husband every time you go to meetin'
+whether he likes it or not.  No, ma'am, you don't!  You're above
+that, I cal'late.  And I shan't ask Labe neither--even if he was
+where I could ask him, which he ain't.  Husbands!  Don't talk to me
+about husbands!  THEY don't count."
+
+Serena said that she would see what could be done and hurried away
+to discuss the new development with the family.
+
+"Of course she can't join," she declared.  "It is ridiculous.  The
+idea!  I supposed she had more sense."
+
+Daniel chuckled.  "So did I," he observed, "until she got shoutin'
+independence to me the other day.  But it looked then as if she'd
+got it bad.  All right, Serena, if Zuba Jane Ginn is goin' to make
+speeches at your Chapter meetin's, I'll go any time.  You won't
+have to ask me but once."
+
+He laughed aloud.  His wife was vexed.
+
+"Of course you think it's a great joke," she said.  "Anything that
+makes trouble for me is a joke to you.  She can't join.  What do
+you suppose Annette and Mrs. Lake and the rest would say if I
+proposed my servant girl as a member?  Do stop being silly, if you
+can.  What are you grinning at now?"
+
+Captain Dan, repressing his grin with difficulty, explained that he
+was thinking of what they would say.  Serena, giving him up in
+disgust, turned to her daughter.
+
+"Gertie," she begged, "why don't you say something?  Azuba can't
+join that Chapter and you know it."
+
+Gertrude shook her head.
+
+"I suppose, she can't," she replied.  "And yet, I'm afraid, Mother,
+that you will find that fact rather hard to explain to her.  Azuba
+doesn't consider herself a servant, in the ordinary sense, at all.
+She feels, I think, that she is a friend of the family.  And she
+has a right, of course, to improve and advance in every way.  I am
+very much pleased to know she is so ambitious."
+
+"Ambitious!  Azuba Ginn!  What does she know about progress or
+advancement?  Who put such ridiculous ideas in her head?"
+
+"Perhaps I did.  She and I have had some long talks on the subject.
+She asked questions and it was duty--and my privilege--to answer
+them.  I am very hopeful of Azuba.  She is my first convert.  I
+shall help her all I can."
+
+"Help her!  Help her to what?  To be too high and mighty for her
+place?  Help her to be dissatisfied with her station in life?"
+
+"Yes; why not?  None of us should be satisfied, short of the very
+highest.  Why, Mother, if you had been satisfied we might all be
+stagnating in Trumet."
+
+Serena abandoned the argument.  She refused to mention Azuba's
+desire for advancement again.  Several times during the day Captain
+Dan saw her regarding her daughter with the same odd, doubtful look
+that she had worn when Mr. Holway made his first call.
+
+After dinner that evening Gertrude and Serena hastened upstairs to
+dress for the Chapter meeting.  Mr. Hungerford, after expressing
+his regret that the gathering was not to be an "open" one and he,
+therefore, would not be permitted to see Miss Dott become one of
+the elect, went out.  When he first became a member of the
+household it was his custom, on occasions of this kind, to remain
+in the library as "company" for Captain Dan.  Now, however, he
+seldom did this.  The captain did not mind; he preferred his own
+society to that of Cousin Percy.
+
+Just as the ladies descended the stairs the doorbell rang.  Hapgood
+answered the ring, and the voice which replied to his polite query
+concerning the caller's name was a familiar one.
+
+"Why!" exclaimed Serena, "it is--isn't that--"
+
+"It's John!" cried Gertrude.  "Why, JOHN!"
+
+Mr. Doane pushed past the butler and entered the hall.  His glance
+took in the group at the foot of the stairs, but it lingered upon
+only one member of it.
+
+"Gertie!" he said, and stepped forward.  Captain and Mrs. Dott
+looked the other way; Hapgood gave his attention to the closing of
+the door.
+
+A moment later the young man was ready to shake hands with the less
+important inhabitants of the mansion.  He did so heartily.
+
+"My!" he exclaimed, "but I'm glad to see you all.  It seems a
+hundred years since I did see you.  How are you?"
+
+Serena answered.  Captain Dan, his first surprise over, seemed
+nervous.
+
+"We're real well," declared Serena.  "And it seems awfully good to
+have you here.  Gertrude and I--"
+
+Gertrude interrupted.
+
+"But, John," she said, "how did you happen to come so unexpectedly?
+I didn't know--you didn't write me a word about it."
+
+"I didn't know it, myself.  That is, I wasn't sure of it.  You know
+our junior partner, Mr. Griffin, has been very ill--I wrote you
+that.  He is very ill even yet, but he is a little better, and so I
+grabbed the opportunity.  I should have come before, just as soon
+as--"
+
+He paused.  Daniel, in the background, was grimacing and shaking
+his head.
+
+"As soon as what, John?" asked Gertrude.
+
+"As soon as--as soon as I could.  You're glad I came, aren't you;
+even if it was rather sudden?"
+
+"Of course I am.  You know it."
+
+Her tone was hearty enough, and yet Mr. Doane seemed to find
+something lacking in it.  Serena, too, looked quickly at her
+daughter.
+
+"Of course she's glad," she declared.  "So are we all.  But what
+are we thinking of?  Take off your things.  Where's your trunk?
+Have the man bring it right in."
+
+"There isn't any trunk.  There's a bag outside there, that's all.
+My visit is likely to be a very short one.  If I should have a wire
+that Mr. Griffin was worse it might be shorter still.  I should
+have to go at once.  But we won't worry about that.  Dinner?  No,
+thank you, I have dined."
+
+Captain Dan ushered the newcomer into the drawing-room.  John
+exclaimed at the grandeur of the apartment.
+
+"Whew!" he whistled.  "You're fine, aren't you?  Gertie wrote me
+how grand you were and I have been anxious to see the new house.
+Gertie--why, Gertie! what is it?"
+
+Gertrude was standing in the doorway.  She looked perplexed and
+troubled.  John noticed, for the first time, that she was wearing
+her coat and hat.
+
+"Were you going out?" he asked.
+
+Gertrude hesitated.  Serena answered for her.
+
+"Gertie and I were going out," she said.  "It is Chapter night and
+she was going to be made a member.  But you won't go now, of
+course, Gertie.  I'll go--John will excuse me, I know--and you can
+join at the next meeting.  It will be all right, I think.  It will
+have to be, of course."
+
+But Gertrude still hesitated.  Her father was surprised.
+
+"Why, Gertie!" he cried.  "What are you standin' there for?
+'Tain't likely you'll go to that meetin' now that John's come all
+the way from Boston to see you.  Tell him you ain't goin'."
+
+The young lady was plainly much disturbed.  She looked at Mr. Doane
+and it was evident that she wanted to say something very much
+indeed.  What she did say, however, was a surprise to everyone.
+
+"I--I ought to go, John," she faltered.  "It is a very important
+meeting.  I can't tell you--now--how important it is."
+
+John's disappointment showed in his look, but his answer was
+prompt.
+
+"Then go, by all means," he said.  "I'll go with you, if I won't be
+in the way."
+
+But this self-sacrificing proposal was dubiously received by both
+the ladies.  Serena shook her head.
+
+"I'm afraid you couldn't do that, John," she said.
+
+"It isn't an open meeting, and men are not admitted.  But Gertie
+doesn't need to go."
+
+"Yes, I do, Mother."
+
+"No, you don't.  I'll explain to Mrs. Lake and the rest.  Of course
+you won't go and leave John here alone."
+
+"Daddy will be with him and I shall hurry home as soon as I can.  I
+must go, John; I really must.  I will explain why later.  If I had
+only known that you were coming!  If you had only written me!  WHY
+did you come without writing?"
+
+Captain Dan, fearful of the answer, and indignant at his daughter's
+conduct, burst into protest.
+
+"You ought to be glad he's come, anyhow," he declared.  "I cal'late
+he thought--I don't care, Serena, I've said 'cal'late' all my life,
+and I can't help forgettin' once in a while--I suppose John thought
+he'd surprise you, Gertie.  And now you're goin' to clear out and
+leave him, just on account of that--that Chapter of yours.  You
+never used to be crazy about Chapters.  You used to poke fun at
+'em.  You did and you know it.  But since you've got here to
+Scarford--I can't help it, Serena; I'm mad clean through.  Can't
+YOU tell that girl to stay to home where she belongs?"
+
+"Gertie," began Serena, again; but her daughter would not listen.
+
+"Don't, Mother!" she cried, "you are wasting time.  We shall be
+late, as it is.  John knows that my going is necessary, or I should
+not do it.  He trusts me to that extent, I hope."
+
+"Of course," said Mr. Doane heartily.  "Run along and don't say any
+more about it.  Come back as soon as you can, that's all.  Shan't I
+come after you?  I can wait outside until the thing is over."
+
+"No; I don't intend to wait until it is over.  Mother and I can
+take a cab.  Come, Mother."
+
+Serena reluctantly led the way to the hall.  Hapgood opened the
+door.
+
+"One moment, Mother," said Gertrude.  She left Serena on the step
+and hurried back to the drawing-room.  Captain Dan and John were
+standing there in silence.
+
+"Daddy," said the young lady, "I think I left my pocketbook
+upstairs in my room.  Will you get it for me?"
+
+The captain ran to the stairs.  Gertrude stepped quickly over to
+her lover.
+
+"John," she whispered, "you will forgive me, won't you, dear?  I
+MUST go.  It will spoil everything if I don't.  You see--why,
+Daddy! you haven't found that pocketbook so soon!"
+
+Daniel had reappeared in the doorway.
+
+"I sent Hapgood for it," he announced.  "It's a good thing to make
+him work once in a while.  What's the use of my runnin' errands
+when I pay him wages to run 'em for me?  He'll be down in a
+minute."
+
+Gertrude did not seem pleased.  "Oh!" she exclaimed.  "Well, never
+mind.  Why! here is the pocketbook in my bag, after all.  Good-by,
+John.  I will hurry back.  You and Daddy will have a lot to talk
+about, I know.  Good-by."
+
+The door closed behind her.  Captain Dan stepped to the foot of the
+stairs.
+
+"Found it yet?" he shouted.
+
+Hapgood answered from above.
+
+"No, sir, not yet."
+
+"Then keep on lookin' till you do.  It's a good excuse to keep him
+out of the way," he explained, turning to Mr. Doane.  "He makes me
+nervous, hangin' around and lookin' at me.  I never was brought up
+to a butler and I can't get used to this one.  Come on into the
+sittin'-room--library, I mean.  The furniture ain't so everlastin'
+straight up and down there and there's somethin' to smoke--or there
+ought to be, if Cousin Percy ain't smoked it first.  Come on,
+John."
+
+In the library, with lighted cigars and in comfortable easy chairs,
+the two men looked at each other.
+
+"Well, John," began the captain, "you--you come, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes, of course.  I should have come as soon as I got your letter,
+but I couldn't get away.  I was going to tell you that."
+
+"Yes," drily, "I know you was.  If I hadn't cut across your bows,
+you would.  Whew! if you had I guess likely there'd have been
+somethin' doin'.  If Gertie or Serena knew I wrote you that letter
+I'd stand to lose what hair I've got left.  Didn't I write you not
+to mention that letter to a livin' soul?"
+
+"You did.  But I couldn't understand why.  What is all this
+secrecy, anyhow?  And what is troubling you about Gertie?"
+
+"Well, now, I don't know as there's anything."
+
+"Humph!  I judged there was a little of everything.  What is the
+matter?  Out with it.
+
+"Well--we-ell--you see--you see--"
+
+"I don't see anything, Captain Dott."
+
+"You saw how she was set on goin' to that Chapter meetin', didn't
+you?  You saw that?"
+
+"Yes, but what of it?"
+
+"What of it?  What OF it?  Did she ever use to want to go to such
+things?  Down in Trumet did she ever want to go?  I bet she didn't!
+But now she does.  And she's goin' to join the thing--join it,
+herself!  As if one loon--I mean as if one Chapter member in the
+family wasn't enough.  I thought when Gertie come home she'd
+probably keep her ma from goin' off the course altogether.  I
+thought, with her level head, she'd swing us back into the channel
+again.  But she didn't--she didn't.  John, Gertie's got the Chapter
+disease worse than her ma ever had it, I do believe.  You've got to
+talk to her, John, that's what you've got to do--talk to her."
+
+John laughed.  He did not take the situation very seriously.  If
+Gertrude wished to become interested in the Chapter, he was willing
+she should.  She probably had a good reason for it.  Her insisting
+upon attending a meeting on the very evening of his arrival was
+odd--it did not seem like her--but she doubtless had a good reason
+for that, too.
+
+"Why don't you talk to her yourself, Captain?" he asked.
+
+"Me!  Me talk to her!  I have, and what good has it done?  She
+won't listen to me any more.  I don't mean she ain't kind to me and
+lovin' and all that--she wouldn't be Gertie if she wasn't that--but
+when it comes to Chapter business she's all on her ma's side."
+
+"Why not talk to her mother, then?"
+
+Daniel straightened in his chair.  "To Serena!" he repeated.  "Talk
+against Chapter to Serena!  John, you don't know what you're
+sayin'.  One time--just one--I did talk that way.  I biled over and
+I damned that Chapter and the gang in it, cussed 'em in good plain
+United States.  But I'll never do it again.  Once was enough."
+
+He was so very serious that his companion fore-bore to laugh.
+
+"Why?" he asked.
+
+"Why!  John, you ain't married or you wouldn't ask that.  I'm a
+peaceable body and I like peace in the house.  More'n that, I hate
+to go 'round feelin' like a sneak thief.  That one damn made me
+miserable for two days.  I never swore to Serena afore and I never
+will again.  She was all cut up over it and in a way she was right.
+No, swearin' aboard ship is one thing--I've had mates that couldn't
+navigate without it--but ashore in your own house, to the women
+folks you care for, it don't go.  I can't talk to Serena about that
+Chapter--not even if I'm left alone ALL the time, same as I'm left
+to-night."
+
+John nodded.  He thought that, at last, he had reached the milk in
+the cocoanut.  Captain Dan, with his love for home and his hatred
+of lodges and societies, had refused to be interested in his wife's
+pet hobby, and felt himself neglected and forsaken.  He had brooded
+upon it, and this outburst and the letter he had written were the
+consequences.
+
+"Oh, well," he said.  "I shouldn't worry.  The Chapter here is a
+large one and Mrs. Dott is interested in it.  The interest will
+wear off when it gets to be an old story."
+
+"Wear off!  With Gertie goin' it harder than her mother ever
+thought of?"
+
+"Oh, Gertie doesn't mean it."
+
+"She DON'T!  She don't!  Perhaps you don't think she means it when
+she goes to every 'tea' and 'recital' and 'at home' and crazy dido
+from here to Beersheba and back.  Is THAT goin' to wear off?
+Chasin' around with Cousin Percy and that Holway and land knows
+who?"
+
+"What?  Captain Dott, you're making mountains out of mole hills.
+Gertie isn't that kind."
+
+"That's what I said.  That's what I used to think.  It's this
+Scarford that's doin' it.  It's this Scarford and the society crowd
+we've got in with.  Annette Black--Barney Phelps's wife--is in
+society, and so's the Lake woman and that Canby piano pounder and
+that Dusante--my Godfreys! you ought to have seen her, John!  She
+was the brazen thing.  Dancin' around!  And all hands sittin'
+lookin' at her as if she was a Sunday School.  Everybody!  Serena
+and Gertie and that Holway man and all.  And Gertie up and says she
+might like to dance that way.  She!  And Cousin Percy laughin'
+because she said it."
+
+"Hold on!  Wait a minute, Captain.  I never saw you so excited.
+What about this Cousin Percy of yours?  He's living here with you,
+I know that; but what sort of a chap is he?  And Holway--who is
+Holway?"
+
+Daniel went on to explain who Holway was.  Also he spoke of Mr.
+Hungerford and his ways and his intimacy with the family,
+particularly Gertrude.  For weeks the captain had been wanting to
+talk to someone about these things and, now that he had that
+opportunity, he made the most of it.  He spoke of his own
+loneliness, and of Serena's infatuation for society, of Gertrude's
+coming and the great change in her, of the gay life in Scarford,
+and of his daughter's apparent love for it.  He gave his opinion of
+Hungerford and of Holway, the latter's friend.  When John asked
+questions which implied a belief that the situation was not really
+as bad as the narrator thought it, Captain Dan, growing warmer and
+more anxious to justify himself, proceeded to make his statements
+stronger.  He quoted instances to prove their truth.  Serena was
+crazy on the subjects of Chapter and Chapter politics and fashion
+and money and society, and Gertrude was getting to be even worse.
+It wasn't any use to talk to her.  He had tried.  He had told her
+she was engaged and ought to be more careful.  He wasn't the only
+one who thought so.  Barney Black had said the same thing.  He
+quoted from Mr. Black's conversation.
+
+John Doane listened, at first with the smile of the disbeliever,
+then with more and more uneasiness.  He trusted Gertrude, he
+believed in her, she was not a flirt, but if these stories were
+true--if they were true--he could not understand.  He asked more
+questions and the answers were as non-understandable.  Altogether,
+Captain Dan, with the best intentions in the world, and with the
+happiness of his daughter and John uppermost in his mind, succeeded
+in laying a mine which might wreck that happiness altogether.
+
+At last something--perhaps the expression on his visitor's face--
+caused him to feel that he might have said too much.  He hastened
+to rectify the mistake.
+
+"Of course you mustn't think Gertie ain't all right, far's you're
+concerned, John," he said.  "She is--I--I'm dead sure she is.  But,
+you see--you see--You do see, don't you, John?"
+
+Mr. Doane did not answer.  He seemed to be thinking hard.
+
+"You see, John, don't you?" repeated Captain Dan.
+
+"Yes, I suppose I do."
+
+"And you know Gertie's all right--at heart, I mean?  You mustn't be
+jealous, nor anything of that kind."
+
+John laughed.  "Don't talk nonsense," he said curtly.
+
+"No, I won't.  But--er--what are you thinkin' about?"
+
+"Nothing.  Humph!  I can't understand--"
+
+"Neither could I.  That's why I wrote you.  You see why I wrote
+you, don't you, John?"
+
+"Yes--yes, I see why you wrote me; but--but I can't see why she
+didn't.  She hasn't written me a word of all this."
+
+And then the captain, in his anxiety to explain, made another
+indiscreet remark.
+
+"Well," he observed, "I suppose likely she was afraid you might
+think that, now she had money--more money than she ever had before,
+I mean--and was in a different, a higher-toned crowd than she had
+ever been, that--that--well, that she was likin' that crowd better
+than the old one.  She might have thought that, you know, mightn't
+she?"
+
+Mr. Doane did not answer.  Daniel had made a pretty thorough mess
+of it.
+
+"Of course," went on the captain, "as far as Cousin Percy is
+concerned--"
+
+John stirred uneasily.  "Cousin Percy be hanged!" he snapped.
+"That's enough of this foolishness.  Let's change the subject.  How
+is Nate Bangs getting on with the store at home?"
+
+The Metropolitan Store at Trumet was the one thoroughly satisfactory
+spot on the checkered map of Daniel Dott's existence at the present
+time.  Nathaniel Bangs was making a success of that store.  He
+reported each week and the reports showed increasing business and a
+profit, small as yet, but a profit nevertheless.
+
+So the captain was only too glad to speak of the store and did so.
+John appeared to listen, but his answers and comments were absent-
+minded.  He accepted a fresh cigar, at his host's invitation, but
+he permitted it to go out.
+
+At half-past ten the doorbell rang.  Daniel sprang to his feet.
+
+"Here they are!" he declared.  "Gertie come home early, just as she
+said she would.  That's 'cause she wanted to see you, John.  Hi!"
+shouting at Mr. Hapgood, who had long since given up the search for
+the missing pocketbook and had been dozing upstairs, "Hi! you
+needn't mind.  Go aloft again!  Go below!  Go somewhere!  We don't
+need you.  I'll let 'em in, myself."
+
+The butler, looking surprised, obeyed orders and went--somewhere.
+The captain flung open the door.
+
+"Well!" he hailed.  "Here you are!  And pretty early for Chapter
+night, too.  We're waitin' for you, John and I.  Shall I pay the
+cab man?"
+
+Serena, the first to enter, answered.
+
+"No," she said, "he is already paid."
+
+"That so?  Did you pay him, Serena?  Thought that was my job
+usually.  I--"  Then, in a tone go entirely different that John
+Doane, in the drawing-room, noticed the change, he added, "Oh! oh!
+I, see."
+
+"Come in," went on Serena.  "Come right in, Cousin Percy."
+
+She entered the drawing-room, followed by Gertrude and--Mr. Percy
+Hungerford.  Captain Dan, remaining to close the door, came last.
+
+"John," said Serena proudly, "we want you to meet our cousin, Mr.
+Hungerford.  Percy, this is John."
+
+John and Hungerford exchanged looks.  The latter gentleman extended
+a gloved hand.  "Charmed," he observed.
+
+John expressed pleasure at the meeting.  The pair shook hands.
+
+"So--so Cousin Percy came home with you, did he?" inquired Daniel.
+"That was kind of unexpected, wasn't it?"
+
+Mr. Hungerford himself answered.
+
+"Why," he declared, "not altogether, on my part I hoped for the
+pleasure.  It seemed rather rough for Miss Dott and her mother to
+come alone, and so I hung about until the affair was over."
+
+"He had a carriage all ready for us," declared Serena.  "It was so
+thoughtful of him."
+
+"Not at all.  Great pleasure, really."
+
+Gertrude made the next remark.
+
+"We did not need a carriage," she said.  "Or, if we did, we could
+easily have gotten one.  Cousin Percy need not have troubled."
+
+"John offered to come for you," said Daniel.  "So did I.  We'd have
+both come, but you wouldn't have us.  Wouldn't accept our
+invitation, would they, John?  Gave us to understand they didn't
+like our company."
+
+"Cousin Percy did not wait for an invitation," explained Serena.
+"He just came.  He is so thoughtful."
+
+Gertrude looked annoyed.  She had been regarding Mr. Doane.
+
+"Mother," she said sharply, "don't be silly.  We did not ask for an
+escort and we didn't need one.  The whole thing was quite
+unnecessary and unexpected.  Come, Mother, do take off your things.
+Oh, I'm so glad to get home."
+
+The ladies retired to remove their wraps.  John made a move to go
+to their assistance, but Mr. Hungerford, attentive as usual, got
+ahead of him.
+
+"Well, Daddy dear," said Gertrude, as they re-entered, "what have
+you and John been doing while we were away?  I suppose you've had a
+long talk?"
+
+Daniel colored.  He looked at Mr. Doane, who, in spite of himself,
+colored also, and was tremendously annoyed because he did so.
+
+"Yes," said the captain hastily.  "Yes, we talked.  We talked,
+didn't we, John?"
+
+"We did," affirmed John.
+
+"I'm sure you did.  And what about?"
+
+"Oh--oh, about everything.  How did the Chapter doin's go off?
+You're a member now, I suppose, Gertie?"
+
+"Yes," was the brief reply, "I am a member."
+
+"Um-hm!  Well, I hope you're satisfied--I mean I hope you'll like
+it.  Didn't make a speech, did you?  Ha! ha!"
+
+Gertrude did not answer.  Serena, to her husband's surprise,
+appeared vexed.
+
+"But she did though, by Jove!" exclaimed Cousin Percy.  "She did,
+and I'm told it created a great sensation.  Miss Canby told me
+about it as I was waiting for you to come out, Gertrude.  She said
+you gave them a brand-new idea.  Congratulations, Gertrude.  Wish I
+might have heard it.  Something about the privileges of the Chapter
+being extended to the hoi polloi, wasn't it?"
+
+The new member of Scarford Chapter looked more annoyed than ever.
+
+"I spoke of the Chapter's advantages being extended," she said,
+"that's all."
+
+"And enough, too," cried her mother, impatiently.  "Quite enough, I
+should think.  If I had known you were going to do that, I should
+have stayed at home.  It was that foolish Azuba who put the notion
+in your head.  You'll be proposing her name next, I suppose.  The
+idea!"
+
+Daniel burst into a roar of laughter.
+
+"What do you think of that, John?" he cried.  "Zuby Jane makin'
+speeches!  There's advancement for you, ain't it?"
+
+John smiled, but rather faintly.  He had scarcely taken his eyes
+from Cousin Percy's aristocratic presence.  The latter gentleman
+turned to him.
+
+"Well--er--Mr.--Mr. Doane," he observed carelessly, "how do you
+like Scarford, as far as you've seen it?"
+
+John replied that he had seen very little of it.
+
+"You will find it a bit different from--er--what is it?  Oh, yes,
+Trumet.  You'll find it a bit different from Trumet, I imagine."
+
+"No doubt.  I can see that already."
+
+"But John doesn't come from Trumet," explained Serena; "that is,
+not now.  He is in business in Boston."
+
+Cousin Percy seemed surprised.  He favored the visitor with another
+look.  "Indeed!" he drawled.  He did not add "He doesn't look it,"
+in words, but his manner expressed just that.
+
+Daniel caught his wife's eye.  "Well, Serena," he observed, with a
+meaning wink, "I guess likely you're tired, ain't you?  Time to go
+aloft and turn in, I should say."
+
+Serena nodded.  "Yes," she answered.  "Gertrude, you and John will
+excuse us, won't you?  John, Captain Dott and I will see you in the
+morning.  Good-night!  Good-night, Cousin Percy."
+
+"Good-night!" said Mr. Hungerford.
+
+"You'll excuse us, John, I'm sure," went on Serena.  "Of course you
+and Gertie will want to talk, and," with a slight pause and a
+glance at Percy, "we will only be in the way.  Come, Daniel."
+
+Captain Dan paused in the doorway.  "Ain't you tired, too, Cousin
+Percy?" he inquired.
+
+It was a fairly broad hint, but Mr. Hungerford did not take it.
+
+"Oh, no," he replied; "not at all.  Good-night, Captain."
+
+He seated himself on the sofa.  Daniel, frowning, followed his wife
+upstairs.
+
+The conversation which ensued was confined almost altogether to
+Hungerford and Gertrude.  John Doane had little to say, and less
+opportunity to say it.  Each remark made by the young lady was
+answered by Percy, and that gentleman talked almost incessantly.
+His remarks also were of a semi-confidential nature, dealing with
+happenings at various social affairs which Gertrude and he had
+attended, and hints at previous conversations and understandings
+between them.  John began to feel himself an outsider.  After a
+time he ceased trying to talk and relapsed into silence.
+
+Gertrude noticed the silence and, seizing a moment when her
+entertaining cousin had paused, perhaps for breath, said, almost
+sharply:
+
+"John, why don't you say something?  You haven't spoken for five
+minutes."
+
+John said very little, even in reply to this accusation.
+
+"Haven't I?" he observed.  "Well, what shall I say?"
+
+"You might say something, considering that you and I haven't seen
+each other for so long."
+
+Mr. Hungerford rose.  "I hope I haven't interfered," he announced.
+"Didn't mean to intrude, I assure you.  Beg pardon--er--Doane."
+
+John did not answer.  Gertrude also rose.
+
+"Good-night, Cousin Percy," she said, with a gracious smile.
+"Thank you so much for the carriage and your escort."
+
+"Quite welcome.  Pleasure was mine.  Goodnight, Gertrude.  Oh, by
+the way, I believe you and I are to go over that paper of your
+mother's tomorrow.  She asked my advice and said you would assist,
+I think.  I shall look forward to that assistance.  Good-night,
+Doane.  Glad to have met you, I'm sure."
+
+He strolled out.  Upon reaching his room he discovered that his
+cigar case was empty.  Hapgood not being on hand and, feeling the
+need of a bedtime smoke, he tiptoed down the stairs and through the
+back hall into the library.  The room was dark, but sufficient
+light shone between the closed curtains of the drawing-room to
+enable him to locate Captain Dan's box.  Silently and very slowly
+he refilled the case.
+
+John Doane and Gertrude, alone at last, looked at each other.  The
+former was very solemn.  Gertrude, quite aware of the solemnity,
+but not aware of its principal cause--her father's impolitic
+disclosure of his apprehensions concerning herself--was nervous and
+a bit impatient.
+
+"Well, John," she asked, after a moment's wait, "aren't you going
+to say anything to me even now?"
+
+John tried his best to smile.  It was a poor attempt.
+
+"Why, yes," he said slowly, "I came all the way from Boston to see
+you and talk to you, Gertie.  There is no reason why I shouldn't
+say--whatever there is to say, I suppose."
+
+Gertrude looked at him.  The tone in which this speech was
+delivered, and the speech itself--the first part of it, especially--
+amazed and hurt her.  Incidentally, her temper having been sorely
+tried already that evening by Mr. Hungerford, it made her angry.
+
+"All the way from Boston," she repeated.  "Well, I never knew you
+to complain in that way before.  I'm sorry to have caused you so
+much trouble."
+
+"It wasn't a trouble, Gertie.  You know I would go around the world
+for you."
+
+"Then why speak of coming all the way from Boston?  Whose fault was
+it, pray?  Did I ask you to come?"
+
+And now, John, who had been fighting his own temper for some time,
+grew angry.
+
+"You did not," he declared.  "But I judge it was time I did."
+
+"Indeed!  Indeed!  Why?"
+
+"Well--well, for various reasons.  Of course, had I known my coming
+would interfere with your--your precious Chapter affairs and--"
+
+"John, I had to go to that meeting.  If you had written you were
+coming I shouldn't have gone.  I should have made other
+arrangements.  But you didn't write."
+
+"I wrote every day."
+
+"Yes, but you did not write you were coming here."
+
+"I didn't think it was necessary.  You wrote every day, too, but
+you didn't write--you didn't write--"
+
+"What?"
+
+"A good many things that--that I have learned since I came here."
+
+"Indeed!  What things?  How did you learn them?"
+
+"I--"  John hesitated.  To bring Captain Dan's name into the
+conversation would be, he felt, disloyal.  And it would surely mean
+trouble for the captain.  "I--I learned them with my own eyes," he
+declared.  "I could see.  Gertie, I can't understand you."
+
+"And I don't understand you.  I told you, at the only moment we
+have had together, I told you then that I would explain about the
+Chapter.  I said that I must go or everything would be spoiled.
+You very nearly spoiled it by coming as you did."
+
+Mr. Doane's expression changed.  It had softened when she reminded
+him of the whispered word in the drawing-room.  The last sentence,
+however, brought his frown back again.
+
+"Well!" he exclaimed.  "Well--humph! that's easily remedied.  I
+came in a hurry and I can go the same way."
+
+"John!  John, what do you mean?  How can you speak so to me!  Would
+you go away now that--that--"
+
+"You wouldn't miss me so much, I should imagine.  Cousin Percy will
+be here, and you and he seem to be very confidential and friendly,
+to say the least."
+
+Gertrude gasped.  She was beginning to understand, or imagined that
+she was.  She laughed merrily."
+
+"John!  Why, John!" she cried.  "You're not jealous!  YOU!"
+
+John looked rather foolish.  "No-o," he admitted doubtfully, "I'm
+not jealous.  Of course I'm not, but--"
+
+"But what?  Don't you trust me, John?  Don't you?"
+
+"Of course I do.  You know I do, but--See here, Gertie, you said
+you were going to explain--to explain something or other.  Do it,
+then.  I think I am entitled to an explanation."
+
+But Gertrude's merriment had vanished.  Her eyes flashed.
+
+"I shall not explain," she said.  "You don't trust me.  I can see
+you don't."
+
+"I do.  I do, Gertie, really; but--but--"
+
+"But you don't.  You think--you think--oh, I don't know WHAT you
+think!  No, I shall not explain, not now, at all events.  Good-
+night!"
+
+She hastened from the room.  John ran after her.
+
+"Gertie," he cried, "you're not going?  You're not going to leave
+me in this way, without a word?  I do trust you.  I only said--"
+
+"It wasn't what you said; it was the way you said it.  I am going.
+I am shocked--yes, and hurt, John.  I shall not speak to you again
+to-night.  To-morrow perhaps, if you beg my pardon and I am really
+sure you do trust me, I may tell you--what I was going to tell.
+But not now.  I--I didn't think you would treat me so."
+
+She put her handkerchief to her eyes and hurried up the stairs.
+John, standing irresolute on the lower step, hesitated, fighting
+down his own pride and sense of injury.  That moment of hesitation
+was freighted with consequence.  Then:
+
+"Gertie," he cried, hastening after her, "Gertie, wait!  I do beg
+your pardon.  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean--"
+
+But it was too late.  Gertie's chamber door closed.  John went
+slowly up to his own room, the room to which the butler had carried
+his bag.  A few minutes after he had gone the curtains between the
+library and drawing-room parted and Mr. Hungerford appeared.  He
+was very cautious as he, too, ascended the stairs.  But his
+expression was a pleasant one; there was no doubt that Cousin Percy
+was pleased about something.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Captain Dan stirred uneasily.  In his dream he had navigated the
+Bluebird, his old schooner, to a point somewhere between Hatteras
+and Race Point light.  It was night all at once, although it had
+been day only a few minutes before, and Azuba, who, it seemed, was
+cook aboard the Bluebird, was washing breakfast dishes in the
+skipper's stateroom.  She was making a good deal of noise about it,
+jingling pans and thumping the foot of the berth with a stick of
+stove wood.  The captain was about to remonstrate with her when
+Serena suddenly appeared--her presence on the schooner was a
+complete surprise--to ask him if he had not heard the bell, and why
+didn't he come into the house, because dinner was ready.  Then
+Azuba stopped pounding the foot of the berth and began to thump him
+instead.
+
+"Don't you hear the bell?" repeated Serena.  "Wake up!  Daniel!
+Daniel!"
+
+Daniel stirred and opened his eyes.  The Bluebird had vanished, so
+had Azuba, but the thumps and jingles were real enough.
+
+"Hey?" he mumbled, drowsily.  "Stop poundin' me, won't you?"
+
+"Pounding you!  I've been pounding and shaking you for goodness
+knows how long.  I began to think you were dead.  Wake up!  Don't
+you hear the bell?"
+
+Daniel, still but two-thirds awake, rolled over, raised himself on
+his elbow and grunted, "Bell!  What bell?"
+
+"The door bell.  Someone's at the door.  Don't you hear them?"
+
+Captain Dan slid out of bed.  His bare feet struck the cold floor
+beneath the open window and he was wide awake at last.  The room
+was pitch dark, so morning had not come, and yet someone WAS at the
+door, the front door.  The bell was ringing steadily and the ringer
+was varying the performance by banging the door with his feet.  The
+captain fumbled for the button, found and pressed it, and the
+electric light blazed.
+
+"For mercy sakes!" he grumbled, glancing at his watch hanging
+beside the head of the bed, "it's quarter past one.  Who in time is
+turnin' us out this time of night?"
+
+Serena, nervous and frightened--she, too, had been aroused from a
+sound sleep--answered sharply.
+
+"I don't know," she snapped.  "It's something important though, or
+they wouldn't do it.  Hurry up and find out, can't you?  I never
+saw such a man!"
+
+Her husband hastened to the closet, found his slippers and
+bathrobe--the latter was a recent addition to his wardrobe, bought
+because his wife had learned that B. Phelps Black possessed no less
+than three bathrobes--and shuffled out into the hall.  The bell had
+awakened other members of the household.  A light shone under the
+door of John Doane's room, and from Gertrude's apartment his
+daughter's voice demanded to know what was the matter.
+
+Daniel announced that he didn't know, but cal'lated to find out,
+and shuffled down the stairs.  The lights in the hall and drawing-
+room were still burning, Gertrude and John having forgotten to
+extinguish them.  Captain Dan unlocked the front door and flung it
+open.  A uniformed messenger boy was standing on the steps.
+
+"Telegram for John Doane," announced the boy.  "Any answer?"
+
+Daniel seized the proffered envelope.  "How in time do I know
+whether there's any answer or not?" he demanded pettishly.  "I
+ain't read it yet, have I?  Think I've got second sight?  Why in
+the nation didn't you ring up on the telephone, instead of comin'
+here and routin' out the neighborhood?"
+
+The boy grinned.  "Against the rules," he said.  "Can't send
+telegrams by 'phone unless we have special orders."
+
+"Well, I give you orders then.  Next time you telephone.  Hold on a
+minute now.  John! oh, John!"
+
+Mr. Doane, partially dressed, his coat collar turned up to hide the
+absence of linen, was already at the head of the stairs, and
+descending.
+
+"Coming, Captain Dott," he said.  "For me, is it?"
+
+"Yes.  A telegram for you.  What--good land, Gertie! you up, too?"
+
+Gertrude, in kimono and cap, was leaning over the rail.  "What is
+it?" she asked quickly.
+
+John announced, "A wire for me," he said.  "I'm afraid--"  He tore
+open the envelope.  "Yes, I thought so.  Mr. Griffin is worse and
+they want me at once.  Every minute counts, they say.  I must go--
+now.  When is the next train for Boston, Captain?"
+
+Daniel was very much flustered.  "I don't know," he stammered.
+"There's a time-table around on deck somewheres, but--you ain't
+goin' now, John?  To-night?"
+
+"Yes, I must."
+
+Gertrude hastened to find the time-table.  John turned to the
+messenger.
+
+"Know anything about Boston trains?" he asked.
+
+"Yup.  Two-twenty express through from New York.  That's the next."
+
+John stepped to the drawing-room and looked at the clock.  "I can
+get it, I think," he announced.  "I must.  If I can get a cab--"
+
+"I'll 'phone for one.  But--but, John, you hadn't ought to--"
+
+"Any answer?" demanded the messenger boy, intent on business.
+
+"Yes.  Say that I am leaving on the two-twenty.  On the two-twenty.
+Got that, have you?"
+
+"Sure, Mike!  Prepay or collect?"
+
+"I'll--I'll pay it, John."  Captain Dan reached under his bathrobe.
+"Hey!" he exclaimed.  "I declare I forgot I didn't have on--All
+right, John, I'll pay it.  You go get ready."
+
+Mr. Doane was on his way to his room.  Daniel hurried after him, a
+difficult progress, for the slippers and bathrobe made hurrying
+decidedly clumsy.  He located his trousers and the loose change in
+their pockets, explaining the situation to Serena as he did so.  He
+and his wife descended the stairs together.  The captain paid the
+messenger and hastened to telephone for the cab.
+
+When the vehicle arrived, John was ready.  His farewells to Daniel
+and Serena were hurried ones.
+
+"I'm awfully sorry I can't stop longer," he declared.  "I really
+shouldn't have come at all, under the circumstances.  I--"
+
+He paused.  Gertrude was standing by the door.  She was very grave
+and her eyes looked as if she had not slept.  John went over to
+her; he, too, was grave.
+
+"Gertie," he faltered, "Gertie--"
+
+Serena interrupted.  "Daniel!" she said, "Daniel!"
+
+The captain looked at her.  She frowned and motioned with her head.
+The light of understanding dawned in her husband's eyes.
+
+"Hey?  Oh, yes!" he cried hastily.  "Come into the front room,
+Serena, just a minute.  I want to speak to you."
+
+They entered the drawing-room together.  Gertrude and John were
+alone.  For a moment neither spoke.  Then the young man, bending
+forward, whispered:  "Gertie," he asked anxiously, "aren't you--
+haven't you anything to say to me?"
+
+"I thought, perhaps, you had something to say to me, John."
+
+"I have.  Gertie, I--"
+
+There was a sound from above.  Cousin Percy Hungerford, fully
+dressed and debonnair as always, was descending the stairs.
+
+"What's the row?" he drawled.  "I heard the racket and decided the
+house must be on fire.  What's up?"
+
+Whatever else was "up" it was quite plain John was sorry that Mr.
+Hungerford was up because of it.  His tone was decidedly chilly as
+he answered.
+
+"A wire for me," he said shortly.  "I'm called to Boston at once."
+
+"Really!  How extraordinary!  It wasn't a fire then, merely a false
+alarm.  Sorry to have you go, Doane, I'm sure."
+
+He spoke as if he were the host whose gracious pleasure it had been
+to entertain the guest during the latter's stay.  John resented the
+tone.
+
+"Thanks," he said crisply.  "Gertie, I--I hope--"
+
+He hesitated.  It was not easy to speak in the presence of a third
+person, particularly this person.  Cousin Percy did not hesitate.
+
+"Gertie," he observed, "your--er--friend is leaving us at the wrong
+time, isn't he?  There's so much going on this coming week.
+Really, Doane, you're fortunate, in a sense.  Miss Dott and I are
+finding the social whirl a bit tiresome; you will escape that, at
+least."
+
+Captain Dan appeared at the entrance to the drawing-room.
+
+"I say, Hungerford!  Percy!" he hailed impatiently.
+
+Mr. Hungerford did not seem to hear him.  He was regarding Miss
+Dott with anxious concern.
+
+"Really, Gertrude," he said, "I shouldn't stand by that open door,
+if I were you.  You have a slight cold and for--all our sakes--you
+must be careful.  Step inside, I beg of you."
+
+His begging was so tender, so solicitous, so intimate.  John
+Doane's fists clenched.
+
+"Hi!"  It was the cabman calling from the street.  "Hi! we've only
+got twelve minutes to catch that train."
+
+John turned, involuntarily, toward the door.  Gertrude, startled by
+the cabman's voice and aware of the need of haste, stepped to one
+side.  Cousin Percy chose to put his own interpretation upon her
+movement.
+
+"Thank you, Gertrude," he said feelingly.  "That's better; you will
+be out of the draft there.  Thank you."
+
+John Doane, who was still hesitating, hesitated no longer.  He
+seized his bag.
+
+"Good-by, all," he said, in a choked voice.  "Good-by, Captain
+Dott."
+
+He strode through the doorway.  Gertrude, for a moment, remained
+where she was.  Then she followed him.
+
+"John!" she cried, "John!"
+
+John, half way down the steps, halted, turned, and looked up at
+her.
+
+"Good-by, Gertie," he said.
+
+"But, John, are you--aren't you--"
+
+She stretched out her hands.  Mr. Hungerford, pushing by the
+captain and Serena, stepped in front of her.
+
+"Here, you!" he shouted, addressing the cabman; "what are you
+thinking about?  Why don't you take the gentleman's bag?"
+
+The driver sprang to get the bag, incidentally he seized his
+prospective passenger by the arm.
+
+"Come on!" he shouted.  "Come on!  We'll miss the train.  Ten to
+one we've missed it, anyhow."
+
+"Oh, DO hurry, John!" cried Serena, anxiously.  "You WILL miss it.
+You MUST go!"
+
+And Mr. Doane went.  The cab rattled away up the street, the old
+horse galloping, the driver shouting, and the whip cracking.
+Daniel drew a long breath.
+
+"Well!" he said slowly, "he's gone.  Yes, sir, he's gone, ain't
+he."
+
+Serena turned on him.
+
+"Yes, he's gone," she observed sarcastically, "but he isn't going
+very fast.  Why in the world didn't you order an electric cab
+instead of that Noah's Ark?  Half the neighbors have been waked up
+and they'll see it.  How many times must I tell you?  You NEVER
+learn!"
+
+"Well, now, Serena--"
+
+"Don't talk to me!  Don't!  My nerves are all of a twitter.  I--I--
+oh, do let me go to bed!  Gertie--why, Gertie, where are you
+going?"
+
+Gertrude was on her way to the stairs.  She did not appear to hear
+her mother's question.
+
+"Gertie!" cried Serena again.
+
+There was no answer.  The young lady hurried up the stairs and they
+heard her chamber door close.  Cousin Percy shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Too bad our friend was called away so suddenly," he observed.
+"Very much of a surprise, wasn't it?  Too bad."
+
+No one replied, not even Serena, who was not wont to ignore the
+comments of her aristocratic relative.  Her next remark was in the
+nature of an order and was addressed to her husband.
+
+"Come!  Come!  Come!" she said fretfully.  "Do come to bed!"
+
+Daniel, pausing only to extinguish the lights, obeyed.  Mr.
+Hungerford, with another shrug and a covert smile, preceded him up
+the stairs.  As the captain was about to enter his bedroom, a
+voice, which sounded as if the speaker was half asleep, called from
+the third floor.
+
+"Is there anything I can do, sir?" asked Hapgood.  "I 'ave just
+been aroused, sir."
+
+Daniel turned.  Here was a heaven-sent vent for his feelings.
+
+"Do!" he repeated.  "Anything you can do?  Yes, there is.  Shut
+your door and turn in."
+
+"But, sir--"
+
+"And shut your head along with it!"
+
+There were some inmates of the Dott mansion who, probably, slept
+peacefully the remainder of that night, or morning.  Cousin Percy
+doubtless did, also Mr. Hapgood.  Azuba, sleeping at the rear of
+the house, had not been awakened at all.  But neither Captain Dan
+or Serena slept.  Mrs. Dott's nerves kept her awake, and the
+combination prevented Daniel from napping.  Nerves were a new
+acquisition of Serena's; at least she had never been conscious of
+them until recently.  Now, however, they were becoming more and
+more in evidence.  She was fretful and impatient of trifles, and
+the least contradiction or upset of her plans was likely to bring
+on fits of hysterical weeping.  It was so in this case.  Daniel,
+trotting for smelling salts and extra pillows and the hot water
+bottle, was not too calm himself.  His plans, the plans founded
+upon John Doane's remaining in Scarford for a time, had been
+decidedly upset.  He pleaded with his wife.
+
+"But I don't see what ails you, Serena," he declared.  "John's
+gone, that's true enough, but you didn't know he was comin'.  He
+was here, a little while, and that's some gain, ain't it?  I don't
+see--"
+
+"See!  You wouldn't see if your eyes were spyglasses.  Oh, dear!
+why does everything have to go wrong with me?  I thought when John
+came that Gertie--"
+
+"Yes.  That Gertie what?"
+
+"Oh, nothing, nothing!  Oh, my poor head!  It aches so and the back
+of it feels so queer.  Where are the pillows?  Can't you get me
+another pillow?"
+
+"Sure I can!  You've got three already, but I can fetch another.
+It's all this society business that's breakin' you down, Serena.
+That everlastin' Chapter--"
+
+He was sorry as soon as he said it, but said it had been.  He spent
+the next hour in explaining that he did not mean it.
+
+Serena was not on hand at breakfast time.  Neither was Gertrude.
+That young lady came into the library at ten o'clock, looking pale
+and worn and with dark circles under her eyes.  She had a thick
+envelope in her hand.
+
+"Daddy," she said, "will you post this for me?"
+
+Her father looked up from the pile of papers on the writing table
+before him.  He, too, appeared somewhat worried.
+
+"Sartin," he announced promptly.  "I've got a stack of stuff for
+the postman, myself.  Bills and checks they are, mostly.  Serena
+usually attends to the house bills, but she's kind of under the
+weather this morning.  Say, Gertie," gravely, "it costs a sight to
+run this place, did you know it?"
+
+"I suppose it does."
+
+"You bet it does!  Why, I never realized--But there, I suppose
+likely these bills are heavier than usual.  I suppose they are.
+Good land! if they ain't!  But, of course they are.  I'll ask
+Serena about 'em by and by, when she's better.  Give me your
+letter, Gertie, I'll mail it."
+
+"You won't forget?"
+
+"Not a mite.  I'll put it right here with the others and give 'em
+to the postman when he comes.  Humph! it's to John, isn't it?
+You're pretty prompt in your writin', ain't you?  But that's
+natural; I remember when I used to write your mother twice a day.
+It's a wonder she stood it and kept her health, ain't it.  Ha! ha!"
+
+He chuckled and turned back to his bills and the checkbook.
+Gertrude left the room.
+
+Captain Dan wrote and enclosed and affixed stamps.  The pile of
+envelopes on the table grew steadily larger.  Mr. Hungerford
+entered, seeking the cigar box.
+
+"Good-morning," he observed, cheerfully.
+
+Daniel looked up, grunted, and went on with his work.  Cousin Percy
+smiled.  A querulous voice called from the second floor.
+
+"Daniel!" called Serena.  "Daniel, where are you?  Why don't you
+come up?  I am all alone."
+
+The captain sprang to his feet, "Comin'! Serena!" he shouted.
+"Comin'!"
+
+He hurried out.  Mr. Hungerford, left alone, helped himself to a
+cigar and strolled about the room.  The pile of letters on the
+table caught his attention.  Idly he turned the envelopes over,
+examining the addresses.  All at once his interest became less
+casual; one of the written names had caught his attention.
+
+Five minutes later the postman rang the doorbell.  Captain Dan ran
+downstairs, entered the library, seized the letters from the table
+and hastened to hand them to the carrier.
+
+"Daddy!" called Gertrude from above, "did you post my letter?"
+
+"Sure!" was the prompt answer.  "Just gave it to the mail man.
+It's on the road now."
+
+Serena's "nerves" were in much better condition the following day,
+and her spirits likewise.  Gertrude, however, was still grave and
+absent-minded and non-communicative.  Toward Mr. Hungerford in
+particular she was cool and distant, answering his chatty remarks
+and solicitous inquiries concerning her health with monosyllables,
+and, on several occasions, leaving the room when he entered it.
+This state of affairs was even more marked on the second day after
+Mr. Doane's abrupt departure, and still more so on the third.  She
+seemed nervously expectant when the postman brought the mail, and
+depressed when each consignment contained no letter for her.  On
+the fourth day this depression was so marked that her father asked
+the cause.
+
+"What ails you, Gertie?" he inquired.  "You look as if you just
+come from a funeral.  What's wrong?"
+
+Gertrude, who was standing by the window, looking out, answered
+without turning her head.
+
+"Nothing," she said shortly.
+
+"Well, I'm glad of that.  I thought you was troubled in your mind
+about somethin'.  Ain't frettin' about John, are you?"
+
+His daughter looked at him now, and the look was a searching one.
+
+"About--Why should I fret about him, pray?" she asked slowly.
+
+"I don't know.  I thought maybe his goin' away so sudden was a sort
+of disappointment to you.  'Twas to the rest of us.  Hey?  Did you
+say somethin'?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Oh, I thought you did.  Well, you mustn't be disappointed, Gertie.
+You see, business is business.  John did what he thought was right
+and--"
+
+"Daddy, do be still.  I do not intend to trouble myself about--him.
+Don't talk to me, please.  I don't feel like talking."
+
+Daniel talked no more, at that time, but he wondered, and
+determined to ask Serena her opinion when the opportunity came.
+
+It did not come immediately.  A new development in Chapter politics
+was occupying Mrs. Dott's mind, a development so wonderful and so
+glorious in its promise that that lady could think or speak of
+little else.  Mrs. Lake's term as president of Scarford Chapter was
+nearing its end.  Annette Black, the vice-president, would have
+been, in the regular course of events, Mrs. Lake's successor to the
+high office.  But Mrs. Lake and Annette, bosom friends for years,
+had had a falling out.  At first merely a disagreement, it had been
+aggravated and developed into a bitter quarrel.  The two ladies did
+not speak to each other.  Annette announced her candidacy in
+meeting, and the very next day Mrs. Lake came to Serena with an
+amazing proposition.
+
+The proposition was this:  Mrs. Lake, it seemed, wished to become
+secretary of the National Legion.  In order to do this--or to
+become even a prominent candidate--it was necessary for her to have
+the support of the officers of her own Chapter.  If Mrs. Black was
+elected president she most decidedly would not have this support.
+
+"That woman is a cat," she declared, "a spiteful underhanded cat.
+After all I have done for her!  Why, she never would have been
+vice-president if it had not been for me!  And just because she
+heard that I said something--something about her that was perfectly
+true, even if I did not say it--she broke out in committee and said
+things to me that--that I never shall forget, never!  She shan't be
+president.  I have as many friends as she has and I'll see to that.
+Now, my dear Mrs. Dott, I am counting on you--and your daughter, of
+course--as among those friends.  We must select some woman for the
+presidency who will command the respect and get the votes of all
+disinterested members.  Miss Canby wants the office, but she is too
+closely identified with me to be perfectly safe.  But our party--I
+and my friends, I mean--have been considering the matter and we
+have decided that a dark horse--that is what the politicians call
+it--a dark horse is bound to win.  We must get the right kind of
+dark horse.  And we think we have it--him--her, I mean.  YOU shall
+be our candidate.  YOU shall be president of Scarford Chapter."
+
+Serena gasped.
+
+"Me?" she cried, forgetful, for once, of her carefully nurtured
+correctness of speech.  "Me?  President?"
+
+"Yes, you.  You are liked and respected by every member.  You are
+known to be rich--I mean cultured and progressive and broad-minded.
+We can elect you and we will.  Isn't it splendid?  I'm SO proud to
+be the one to bring you the news!"
+
+There was one strong qualification possessed by Mrs. Dott which the
+bearer of good news omitted to mention.  Serena was supposed to be
+Annette Black's most devoted friend.  Announcement of her candidacy
+would have the effect of splitting the Black party in twain.  Mrs.
+Lake and her followers were very much aware of this, although their
+spokeswoman said nothing about it.
+
+"You'll accept, of course," gushed Mrs. Lake.  "Of course you will.
+I shall be so proud to vote and work for you."
+
+Serena hesitated.  The honor of being president of her beloved
+Chapter was a dazzling prospect.  And yet--and yet--
+
+"You will, won't you?" begged the caller.
+
+"No," said Serena.  "No, Mrs. Lake, I can't.  I could not run
+against Annette Black.  She is my best and dearest friend.  If it
+were not for her I should not have come to Scarford at all.  It
+would be treachery of the meanest kind.  No, Mrs. Lake, I am not
+that kind of a friend.  No."
+
+"But--"
+
+"Please don't speak of it again.  I am ashamed even to hear you.
+Let's talk of something else."
+
+But Mrs. Lake did not want to talk of anything else.  She urged and
+argued and pleaded in vain.  Then she began to lose her temper.
+The parting was not cordial.
+
+And then came Mrs. Black, herself.  She, somehow or other, had
+learned of the offer to be made Serena.  When she found that the
+latter had refused that offer because of loyalty to her, she fairly
+bubbled over.
+
+"You dear!" she cried, embracing her hostess.  "You dear, splendid
+thing!  It was what I expected; I knew you'd do it; but I'm SO
+happy and SO grateful.  I never shall forget it--never.  And
+whenever I can prove my loyalty and devotion to you, be sure I
+shall do it."
+
+Serena was touched and gratified, but there was just a shade of
+disappointment in her tone as she answered.
+
+"I know you will," she said.  "Of course, I had rather be president
+of Scarford Chapter than anything else in the world, but--"
+
+And then Annette had an idea.  She clasped her hands.
+
+"You shall be," she cried.  "You shall be.  Not this term, but the
+next--the very next.  This term I shall be president, and you--YOU
+shall be vice-president.  With you as our candidate we can beat
+that Canby creature to death.  Oh, lovely!  It is an inspiration."
+
+And on that basis it was settled.  The opposing tickets were Black
+and Dott against Canby and a lady by the name of Saunderson,
+another of Mrs. Lake's "dear friends."  The Chapter was racked from
+end to end.  Politics became the daily food of its members.
+
+For Serena it was almost the only food.  She was too busy to eat,
+except at odd times and hurriedly, and she slept less than ever.
+Her nervousness increased and she lost weight.  Daniel was worried
+concerning her health and would have mentioned his worriment to
+Gertrude had not that young lady's mental state and behavior
+worried him almost as much.
+
+Gertrude, for the first week after John Doane's departure, was
+depressed and silent and solemn.  Once, her father found her in her
+room, crying and when he anxiously asked the reason she bade him go
+away and leave her, so sharply and in a tone so unlike her, that he
+went without further protestation.  He did, however, go to Serena
+for advice.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Serena impatiently.  "She misses John, I
+suppose.  She thought he was going to stay and he didn't, and she
+was disappointed.  Don't bother me!  Don't!  I've checked this
+voting list over three times already and it has come out different
+each time.  I'm so tired and headachy and nervous I think I shall
+die.  Sometimes I don't care if I do.  Go away."
+
+"But, Serena, there's--there's somethin' queer about Gertie and
+John.  I don't believe she's heard from him since he left.  I don't
+believe she has."
+
+"Then, why doesn't she write and find out what is the matter?
+Perhaps he's sick."
+
+"Maybe so, but perhaps she don't want to write.  Perhaps she's
+waitin' for him to do it."
+
+"He can't write if he's sick, can he?  Why don't she telegraph
+him?"
+
+"That would be just the same, the way she may look at it."
+
+"Then wire him yourself, why don't you?  Oh, please go away--
+PLEASE.  I'll speak to her, Daniel, when I get time; I was going
+to.  But just now I--oh, my POOR head!"
+
+Daniel made up his mind to telegraph Doane that very afternoon, but
+he did not.  A happening in the household prevented him.  Mr.
+Hapgood was summarily discharged.
+
+Azuba was responsible for the affair.  Serena was out--"committeeing"
+as usual--Gertrude was with her.  Mr. Hungerford, also, was absent.
+Captain Dan, in the library, dolefully musing in an arm chair, heard
+a violent altercation in the kitchen.  As it did not cease, but
+became more violent, he hastened to the scene.
+
+Azuba was standing in the middle of the kitchen, her back against
+the table, facing the butler.  Mr. Hapgood's face was red, his
+fists were clenched, and he was shaking one of them under the
+housekeeper's nose.
+
+"Give it to me!" he ordered.  "'And it over now, or I'll bash you
+good and 'ard."
+
+Azuba merely smiled.  "You'll bash nobody," she declared.  "You're
+a thief, that's what you are--a low-down thief.  I've always
+cal'lated you was one, ever since I laid eyes on you; now I know
+it.  Don't you dare shake your fist at me.  If my husband was here
+he'd--"
+
+Hapgood interrupted, savagely consigning the Ginns, both male and
+female, to a much hotter place than the kitchen.  Captain Dan
+strode into the room.
+
+"Here!" he said sharply.  "What's all this?  You," addressing
+Hapgood, "what, do you mean by shakin' your fist at a woman?"
+
+Mr. Hapgood's bluster collapsed, like a punctured toy balloon.
+He cringed instead.
+
+"W'y, sir," he pleaded, "it wasn't anything.  I lost my temper a
+bit, sir, that's all.  She"--with a malignant snarl at Azuba--
+"she's got a letter of mine.  She stole it and won't give it up.
+I was angry, sir, same as any man would 'ave been, and I forgot
+myself.  Make 'er 'and over my letter, sir."
+
+The captain turned to the defiant Mrs. Ginn.
+
+"Have you got a letter of his, Zuba?" he demanded.
+
+Azuba laughed.  "I have," she declared, "and I'm glad of it.  I've
+been waiting to get somethin' like it for a long spell.  Stealin'!
+HE accuse anybody of stealin'!  Here, Daniel Dott, you read that
+letter.  Read it and see who's been doin' the stealin' around
+here."
+
+She extended the letter at arm's length.  The butler made a snatch
+at it, but Captain Dan was too quick.  He unfolded the crumpled
+sheet of paper.  It bore the printed name and address of one of
+Scarford's newer and more recently established grocers and
+provision dealers, and read as follows:
+
+
+EDWARD H. HAPGOOD,
+
+SIR:--Our order clerk informs us that you expect a higher
+percentage of commission on goods ordered by your household.  We do
+not feel that we should pay this.  While we, being a new house,
+were willing, in order to obtain your business, to allow a fair
+rate of commission to you for putting it in our way, and while,
+during the past three months, we have paid such commission, we do
+not feel--
+
+
+Daniel tossed the note on the floor.  He marched to the door
+leading to the back yard and threw it open.  Then he turned to the
+butler.
+
+"See that door?" he inquired, pointing toward it.  "Use it."
+
+Hapgood did not seem to comprehend.
+
+"Wh-what, sir?" he faltered.
+
+"Use that door.  Get out!  Out of this house, and don't you dare
+show your nose inside it again.  Here!" stepping to the rack behind
+the open door.  "These are your--duds--aren't they?  Take 'em and
+get out.  Quick!"
+
+He threw an overcoat and hat at the astonished man-servant, who
+caught them mechanically.
+
+"Get!" repeated the captain.
+
+Hapgood apparently understood at last.  His usual expression of
+polite humility vanished and he glowered malevolently.
+
+"So I'm fired, am I?" he demanded.  "Fired, without no notice or
+nothin'.  'Ow about my two weeks' wages?  'Ow about square
+treatment?  'Ow about my things upstairs?  I've got rights, I 'ave,
+and you'll find it out.  Blame your eyes, I--"
+
+He darted through the doorway just in time.  Captain Dan was on the
+threshold.
+
+"You can send for your things upstairs," said the captain.
+"They'll be ready--either up there or on the sidewalk.  Now, my--
+hum--thief," with deliberate and dangerous calmness, "I'm comin'
+out into that yard.  If I was you I'd be somewhere else when I get
+there.  That's my advice."
+
+The advice was taken.  Mr. Hapgood was in the street by the time
+his employer reached the gate.  Bolting that gate, Daniel walked
+back to the kitchen.
+
+"Thank you, Zuba," he said quietly.  "You've only confirmed what I
+suspected before, but thank you, just the same."
+
+Azuba was regarding him with a surprise in which respect was
+strongly mingled.
+
+"You're welcome," she said drily.  "It's good riddance to bad
+rubbish, that's what I call it.  But," her surprise getting the
+better of her judgment, "I must say I ain't seen you behave--I
+mean--"
+
+She stopped, the judgment returning.  But Captain Dan read her
+thoughts and answered them.
+
+"He's a man," he said shortly, "or an apology for one.  I know how
+to deal with a MAN--his kind, anyway."
+
+Azuba nodded.  "I should say you did," she observed.  "Well, if
+you'd like to hear the whole yarn, how I come to suspect him and
+all, I can tell you.  You see--"
+
+But Daniel would not listen.  "I don't want to hear it," he said.
+"Tell Serena, if you want to, when she comes home.  I've got too
+much else on my mind to bother with swabs like him.  If he should
+try to come back again you can call me, otherwise not.  I ain't
+interested."
+
+And yet, if he could have seen and heard his ex-butler just at that
+moment, he might have been interested.  Hapgood, on the next
+corner, out of sight from the Dott home, had met and waylaid Mr.
+Percy Hungerford.  To the latter gentleman he was telling the story
+of his discharge.  Cousin Percy seemed disturbed and angry.
+
+"It's your own fault," he declared.  "You ought to have been more
+careful."
+
+"Careful!  'Ow should I know the fools was going to write a letter?
+I told 'em not to.  And 'ow did I know the old woman--blast 'er--
+was watchin' me all the time?  And now I've lost my job, and a good
+soft job, too.  You've got to get it back for me, Mr. 'Ungerford;
+you've got to 'elp me, sir."
+
+"I'll help you all I can, of course, but I doubt if it will do any
+good.  I can't stand talking with you here.  Drop me a line at the
+club, telling me where you are, and I'll let you know what turns
+up.  Oh, say, have any more letters come for--you know who?"
+
+"No, that was the only one, sir.  But a telegram came this
+morning."
+
+Mr. Hungerford started.  "A telegram?" he repeated.  "For her?"
+
+"Yes, sir.  And from 'im, it was, too."
+
+"Did she get it?"
+
+Mr. Hapgood winked.  "It was 'phoned up from the telegraph office,
+sir," he said, "and I answered the 'phone.  'Ere's the copy I made,
+sir."
+
+He extracted a slip of paper from his pocket.  Cousin Percy
+snatched the slip and read the penciled words.  Hapgood smiled.
+
+"Looks good, don't it, sir," he observed.  "'Frisco's a long way
+off."
+
+Hungerford did not answer.  He tore the paper into small pieces and
+tossed them away.
+
+"Well," he said, after a moment, "good by and good luck.  Let me
+know where you are and meanwhile I'll see what can be done for you.
+Good by."
+
+He was moving off, but his companion stepped after him.
+
+"Just a minute, sir," he said.  "Could you 'elp me out a bit, in
+the money way?  I'm flat broke; the old 'ayseed chucked me without
+a penny; 'e did, so 'elp me."
+
+Cousin Percy looked distinctly annoyed.
+
+"I'm pretty nearly broke myself," he declared, impatiently.
+
+"Is that so, sir, I'm sorry, but I think you'll 'ave to 'elp me a
+bit.  I think--I think you'd better, Mr. 'Ungerford, sir."
+
+Hungerford looked at him.  The look was returned.  Then the young
+gentleman extracted a somewhat attenuated roll of bills from his
+pocket, peeled off two and handed them to his companion.
+
+"There you are," he replied.  "That's all and more than I can
+spare, just now.  Good by."
+
+"Good by, sir--for now.  And thank you kindly."
+
+Captain Dan, for all his prompt handling of the thieving butler and
+his professed ability to deal with men--Mr. Hapgood's kind of man--
+awaited the return of his wife and daughter with considerable
+uneasiness.  Hapgood, in his capacity as trained, capable,
+aristocratic servant, had been a favorite of Serena's.  The captain
+dreaded telling his wife what, in the heat of his anger, he had
+done.  But his dread was needless.  Serena's mind was too much
+occupied with politics and political ambition to dwell upon less
+important matters.
+
+"I suppose it is all right," she said.  "If he was a thief he
+should be discharged, of course.  No doubt you did right, Daniel,
+but we shall miss him dreadfully.  I don't know where we can get
+another butler like him."
+
+Daniel gasped.  "Good land of love!" he cried; "we don't WANT
+another like him, do we!  I should hope we didn't."
+
+"I don't mean another thief.  Oh, dear me!  Why do you pick me up
+in that way?  One would think you took a delight in worrying me all
+you could.  Get me a cup of tea.  I want it right away.  My nerves
+are all unstrung.  Gertie--"
+
+But Gertie had gone to her room; she spent the greater part of her
+time there now.  Her mother sighed.
+
+"She's gone," she declared.  "Just when I need her most, of course.
+I can't see what has got into her for the last few days.  She was
+so interested in the Chapter.  Even more than I, I began to think.
+And yet, at the committee meeting this afternoon--the most
+important meeting we've had; when we were counting the votes which
+we can be sure of and those that are doubtful, she scarcely said a
+word.  Just sat there and moped.  I don't know what is the matter
+with her."
+
+Daniel nodded.  "I think I do," he said.  "It's John.  Somethin's
+the matter between her and John.  If he had only stayed here!  If
+he would only come back!"
+
+"Then for mercy sakes get him back!  Telegraph him.  You said you
+were going to."
+
+Captain Dan rose.  "I will," he declared.  "I'll do it right now,
+this minute.  Not till I see you to your tea, Serena," he added,
+hastily.  "I'll tell Zuba about that first, of course."
+
+He sent the telegram within the hour.  It was an inquiry concerning
+Mr. Doane's whereabouts, his employer's health, how he was getting
+on, and when he--John--was to return to Scarford.  The answer
+arrived, via telephone, about eight that evening.  It was a
+surprising answer.
+
+"Doane gone to San Francisco on business of the firm," it said.
+"Left at midnight yesterday."
+
+It was signed by the senior partner.  Serena had gone out, of
+course; she was scarcely ever in now, but Gertrude, having finished
+dinner, was in her room as usual.  Her father hurried up the
+stairs.
+
+"Gertie," he cried, entering without knocking, "Gertie, what do you
+suppose I've just found out?  It's the most astonishing news.  John
+is--he has--Why, you'd never guess!"
+
+Gertrude, who was sitting in the rocking chair by the window,
+showed her first sign of interest.  At the mention of the name she
+turned quickly.
+
+"What?" she cried, in a startled voice.  "What?  Is it--is it bad
+news?  He isn't--isn't--"
+
+"No, no!  No, no!  He's all right.  Don't look like that, you scare
+me.  John's all right; that is, I suppose he is.  But he--Here!
+read it yourself."
+
+Gertrude took the paper upon which he had written the message.  She
+read the latter through; read it and reread it.  Then she turned to
+her father.
+
+"But I can't understand," she faltered.  "I can't--I can't
+understand.  He didn't send this himself.  He has gone to San
+Francisco; but--but this is signed by someone else.  What does it
+mean?"
+
+Daniel was frightened.  It was time to explain, and yet,
+considering his daughter's look and manner, he was afraid to
+explain.
+
+"You see," he stammered, "well, you see, Gertie, that's an answer,
+that is.  John didn't send it, he'd gone.  But, I presume likely
+they thought my telegram ought to be answered, so--"
+
+Gertrude interrupted.  "Your telegram?" she repeated.  "YOUR
+telegram?  What telegram?"
+
+"Why, the telegram I sent to John.  I knew you hadn't heard from
+him, and I thought probably--"
+
+"Wait--wait a minute.  Did YOU send a telegram to--to him?"
+
+"Yes; sure I did.  I--"
+
+"What did you say?"
+
+"I said--why, I said that you--we, I mean--was wonderin' about him
+and--and missin' him and when was he comin' back here.  That's
+about what I said.  I wrote it in a hurry and I don't remember
+exactly.  That's about it, anyhow.  Why, what's the matter?"
+
+Gertrude had risen.
+
+"You said that!" she cried.  "You--without a word to me--said--you
+begged him to come back!  Begged him! on your knees! to--to--"
+
+"No, no!  I never got on my knees.  What would I do a fool thing
+like that for, when I was sendin' a telegram?  I just asked--"
+
+"You just asked!  You said that I--_I_--And this was your answer!
+THIS!"
+
+She dashed the message to the floor, covered her face with her
+hands and threw herself upon the bed.  Daniel, aghast and alarmed,
+would have raised her but she pushed him away.
+
+"Oh!" she cried.  "The shame of it!  Don't touch me!  Please don't
+touch me!"
+
+"But, Gertie--what on earth?"
+
+"Don't touch me.  Please don't touch me.  Just go away, Daddy.  Go
+and leave me.  I mustn't talk to you now.  If I do, I shall say--
+Please go.  I want to be alone."
+
+Daniel went.  That he had made another blunder was plain enough,
+but just now he was too hurt and indignant to care a great deal.
+
+"All right," he said shortly; "I'm goin'.  You needn't worry about
+that.  That's about all the orders I get nowadays--to go away.  I
+ought to be used to it, by this time.  I'm a fool, that's what I
+am, an old worn-out, useless fool."
+
+He slammed the door and descended the stairs.  He had been in his
+accustomed refuge, the library, for perhaps twenty minutes, when
+the bell rang.  He waited for Hapgood to answer the ring and then,
+suddenly remembering that the butler had departed, answered it
+himself.
+
+Mr. Monty Holway smiled greeting from the steps.
+
+"Good evening, Captain Dott," he said.  "Is Miss Dott in?"
+
+Daniel hesitated.  "Yes," he said, "she's in, but--"
+
+"May I see her?  Will you be good enough to give her my card?"
+
+The captain took the card.
+
+"Ye-es," he said, "I'll give it to her, but--but--Well, you see,
+she ain't feelin' very well this evenin' and I don't know as she'll
+want to see anybody."
+
+Gertrude herself called from the head of the stairs.
+
+"Who is it, Daddy?" she asked.  "Someone for me?"
+
+"It's--er--Mr. Holway."
+
+"Oh, is it!"  The tone was one of delighted surprise.  "Ask him to
+come in, Daddy.  I'll be right down."
+
+She came almost immediately.  She greeted the caller with
+outstretched hand.
+
+"I'm so glad to see you, Mr. Holway," she said.  "I was lonely.  It
+was nice of you to come."
+
+She was pale, and the dark circles under her eyes were more
+apparent than ever, but the eyes themselves were shining brightly.
+She was gay and, for her, extremely vivacious.  Mr. Holway looked
+gratified and happy.  Captain Dan looked astonished and bewildered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+The bewilderment and astonishment remained with the captain for
+some time, just as his daughter's apparent light heartedness
+remained with her.  Holway's call was longer than usual, lasting
+until Serena, escorted by Mr. Hungerford, returned from Mrs.
+Black's, where they had been discussing the all-important election.
+Hungerford and his friend greeted each other with a marked lack of
+warmth; in fact, they scarcely spoke.  Serena was too tired to
+talk, but Gertrude talked enough for all.  She chatted and laughed
+with almost feverish gaiety until the caller, after many false
+starts and with evident reluctance, finally tore himself away.
+Then her manner changed, she was silent and thoughtful and, soon
+afterward, said goodnight and went up to her room.
+
+Captain Dan forebore to trouble his wife with the news of the
+telegram announcing John Doane's departure for the West, and the
+reception of that news by Gertrude.  After hearing Serena's
+complaints of her "nerves" and weariness, he decided that there was
+trouble sufficient for that night.  But the next morning he spoke
+of it.  Serena was surprised, of course, and worried likewise.
+
+"You're right, Daniel," she said, "I am afraid you're right.  She
+and John must have had some disagreement.  I suppose it is only a
+lover's quarrel--young engaged people are always having foolish
+quarrels--and they always get over them and make up again.  But,
+oh, dear! why did they quarrel just now?  Haven't I got enough on
+my mind without fretting about them?  Well, I'll talk to Gertie
+this very forenoon."
+
+She did, but the talk was unsatisfactory.  When Daniel, waiting
+anxiously to learn what had taken place, questioned her she shook
+her head.
+
+"I can't make Gertie out," she declared pettishly.  "She acts so
+queer.  Doesn't want to talk about John at all.  Says it is all
+right, and why should I worry if she doesn't?  And she is so
+different, somehow.  She was willing enough to discuss my chances
+for the vice-presidency.  She asked twenty questions about that and
+declares she is going to help me.  And yesterday, when I wanted her
+to help, she didn't take any interest.  I never saw such a change.
+And she is so--so fidgety and--and nervous and high-spirited and
+silly.  She laughed at nothing and kept jumping up and walking
+about and sitting down again.  I declare! it made ME jumpy just to
+look at her."
+
+Gertrude's conduct was certainly surprising.  It caused Captain Dan
+to feel "jumpy" more than once.  Her determination to help her
+mother in the campaign she put into immediate practice.  She called
+Cousin Percy into council, borrowed Serena's list of Chapter
+members, and the pair spent hours checking that list together.
+Then Gertrude announced that she was going to make some calls.  She
+made them and returned, exultant.
+
+"I think I have made two converts this afternoon," she said.  "I am
+almost sure they will vote for you, Mother.  You and I must go to
+Mrs. Black's to-night and talk it over with her.  We MUST; it is
+very important."
+
+Serena, who had hoped for an early bedtime, expressed weariness,
+and protested, but her protests were overruled.  They went to the
+Blacks' and Captain Dan and Mr. Hungerford went, also.  Annette was
+delighted to see them.  Mr. Black succeeded in repressing his joy.
+
+"For the Lord's sake, Dan!" he exclaimed, when, he and the captain
+were alone, "isn't there EVER going to be any let-up to this tom-
+foolery?  Are these women of ours going stark crazy?"
+
+Daniel gloomily replied that he didn't know.
+
+"You're worse off than I am," continued B. Phelps.  "There's two
+lunatics in your family and only one in mine.  Your daughter's just
+as bad as her mother, every bit--worse, if anything.  But, it seems
+to agree with HER.  I never saw her so lively or so pretty either.
+Humph! your pet cousin there is badly gone, or I'm no judge.  Well,
+you remember what I told you about him."
+
+Daniel nodded.  He was too depressed for words.
+
+"All right, it's your funeral, not mine.  But, say! there's one ray
+of hope.  The whole crowd may be licked to death in this election.
+If they are, my wife says she'll resign from the Chapter and never
+speak to one of the bunch again.  It sounds too good to be true,
+but it may be.  It's enough to make a fellow hop in and do some
+political work himself--for the other side.  What?"
+
+The political work continued, mornings and afternoons, evenings and
+far into the nights.  Serena was in it, Gertrude was in it, and
+Cousin Percy and Mr. Holway were in it because she was.  Monty's
+calls were of frequent occurrence.  Mr. Hungerford and his
+erstwhile chum did not speak to each other at all now.  But at
+receptions and teas and dances and musicals and committee meetings
+one or the other was on hand at Miss Dott's elbow.  And Gertrude
+was very gracious to them both; not more to one than the other, but
+exceptionally kind and agreeable to each.
+
+The social affairs were of almost as frequent occurrence as the
+political meetings.  Gertrude accepted all invitations and urged
+her mother to accept.
+
+"You must, Mother," she declared.  "Now is the time when you can't
+afford to offend or neglect anyone.  You may need their votes and
+influence."
+
+"But, Gertie," pleaded poor, tired Serena, "I can't go everywhere."
+
+"You must.  If this vice-presidency is worth all the world to you,
+as you say it is, you must sacrifice everything else to get it."
+
+"But, I can't!  I'm almost worn out.  I--I--oh, sometimes I feel
+almost willing to give it all up and go back to--to--almost
+anywhere, even Trumet, if I could rest there."
+
+"You don't mean that, Mother."
+
+"No; no, of course I don't."
+
+"Because if you do, why--well, that is different.  If you WANT to
+go back to dead and alive old Trumet--"
+
+"I don't.  I--I wouldn't for anything.  I shouldn't think you, of
+all people, would hint at such a thing.  You!  When I have climbed
+so high already; when our social position has become what it is.
+You! talking of going back to Trumet."
+
+"I'm not.  You mentioned it; I didn't.  I'm having a beautiful
+time.  I just love our social position.  The Blacks and the Kellys
+and--er--that Miss Dusante!  Oh, I adore them.  I wouldn't leave
+such cultured people for anything.  And you enjoy it so, Mother.
+You look so happy."
+
+Was there a trace of sarcasm in this outburst?  Serena was, for the
+moment, suspicious.  She tried her hardest to look very happy
+indeed.
+
+"I am happy, of course," she declared.
+
+"I know it.  And we want to keep on being happy, don't we.  So we
+must not decline anyone's invitation.  We must go, go, go, all the
+time."
+
+"But some of the invitations are from people I scarcely know at
+all.  And some I don't like."
+
+"That makes no difference.  They may be of value to you in your
+campaign, or socially, or somehow.  Don't you see, Mother?  In
+politics or society one wishes to advance, to climb higher all the
+time.  And to do that one must use one's acquaintances as rounds in
+the ladder.  Use them; get something from them; pretend to love
+them, no matter whether you really hate them or not.  They may hate
+you, but they want to use you.  That's part of the game, Mother."
+
+This was worldly advice to be given by a young lady scarcely out of
+college.  And it sounded so unlike Gertrude.  But, then, Gertrude
+had changed, was changing more and more daily.
+
+"We don't entertain enough," went on the adviser.  "We should be
+giving some affair or other at least once a week.  Invite everybody
+you know--everyone but the Lake crowd, of course.  I'll make out a
+list of eligibles to-day and we'll give an 'At Home' next week."
+
+"But, Gertie--the expense.  It costs so dreadfully.  We're not
+rich; that is, not very rich."
+
+"No matter.  Everyone thinks we are.  If they didn't, most of them
+would cut us dead to-morrow.  We must pretend to be very rich.
+I'll make out the list.  Mr. Holway will help me.  He is coming to
+call this evening."
+
+Serena looked more troubled than ever.
+
+"Gertie," she said earnestly, "I think I ought--yes, I am going to
+warn you against that Mr. Holway.  I don't like your having him
+call or being seen in his company."
+
+"You don't!  I am surprised.  I'm sure he is very polite and
+agreeable.  He belongs to the best club and he dresses well, and as
+to society--why, he is in the very heart of it; our kind of
+society, I mean."
+
+"I know, I know.  But--well, Cousin Percy doesn't speak well of
+him.  He says he is a very fast young man."
+
+Gertrude bit her lip.  "Did Percy say that!" she exclaimed.  "How
+odd!  Why, Monty--I mean Mr. Holway--said almost the same thing
+about him.  And I KNOW you like Cousin Percy, Mother."
+
+Mrs. Dott scarcely knew how to answer.  As a matter of fact she did
+not like their aristocratic relative quite as well as she had at
+first.  There were certain things about him, little mannerisms and
+condescensions, which jarred upon her.  He was so very, very much
+at home in the family now; in fact, he seemed to take his permanent
+membership in that family for granted.  He had ceased to refer to
+himself as being on a vacation, and, as for his "literary work," he
+appeared to have forgotten that altogether.
+
+But these were not the real reasons for Serena's growing dislike
+and uneasiness.  She hinted at the real reason in her next remark.
+
+"I don't think," she said, "I don't think, Gertie, that you and he
+should be so much together.  You are engaged to be married, you
+know, and John--"
+
+Gertrude interrupted.  She ignored the mention of Mr. Doane's name.
+
+"Oh, Cousin Percy is all right," she said lightly.  "He's good
+company.  Of course he may be something of a sport, but that is to
+be expected.  The trouble with you and me, Mother, is that we are
+too old-fashioned; we are not sporty enough."
+
+"GERTIE!"  Serena's horror was beyond words.
+
+Gertrude laughed.  "But that can be mended," she went on.  "Mother,
+you should learn to drink cocktails and tango.  I think I shall.
+Everybody's doing it, doing it, doing it!"
+
+Humming this spirited ditty, which the street pianos had rendered
+popular, and smiling over her shoulder at her mother, she "one-
+stepped" from the room.  Serena put both hands to her head.  Her
+"nerves" were more troublesome than ever the remainder of that day.
+
+There were enough troubles to rack even a healthy set of nerves.
+The domestic situation was decidedly complicated.  No successor to
+the departed Hapgood had, as yet, been selected.  Mr. Hungerford
+was partially responsible for this.  At first, when told of the
+butler's misbehavior and its consequences, he had expressed sorrow,
+but had advised forgiveness and the reinstallation of the
+discharged one.  The crime was, after all, not so very serious.
+Most butlers exacted commissions from tradespeople, so he had been
+told.  Of course it was all wrong, a pernicious system and all
+that, but they did do it.  And many employers winked at the system.
+Hapgood was an exceptional fellow, really quite exceptional.  Aunt
+Lavinia had treated him as one of the family, almost.  Captain Dan,
+to whom these statements were made, was stubbornly indignant.  He
+wouldn't wink at a thief, and he wouldn't fire him and then hire
+him over again, either.  If "that everlastin' sneak showed his
+white-washed face on the premises again, he'd have that face
+damaged."  All the captain hoped for was a chance to inflict the
+damage.
+
+So Cousin Percy, finding Daniel obdurate, tried his influence upon
+Serena, whom he regarded, and justly, as the real head of the
+house.  But Serena, too, refused to consider Mr. Hapgood's re-
+employment.  She had talked with Azuba, and Azuba had declared that
+she should leave in "just about two-thirds of a jiffy" if the
+butler came back.  "When he comes into my kitchen," she said, "I
+get out.  I should hate to quit the folks I'd worked for the
+biggest part of my life, but there's some things I won't stand.
+He's one of 'em.  Don't talk to me about HIM!"
+
+Mr. Hapgood was not re-engaged nor forgiven, and Hungerford kindly
+volunteered to find a competent successor.  He would make some
+inquiries among his friends, the right sort of people, he said, and
+his manner indicated that the said people were accustomed to
+employing butlers in droves.
+
+Azuba, therefore, was left with all the domestic cares upon her
+hands.  These hands were quite competent, had they been disengaged,
+but just now they were full.  Azuba was "advancing," just as she
+had proclaimed to Captain Dan that she intended to do.  She read
+"The Voice" and kindred literature a great deal, and quoted from
+her readings at every opportunity.  Denied admittance to the
+Chapter, in spite of Gertrude's efforts in her behalf--Gertrude had
+warmly advocated the formation of a Servants' Branch--she had made
+search on her own hook and suddenly announced that she had found
+what she was looking for.  This, so she affirmed, was an
+organization called "The Free Laborers' Band," and it met in a hall
+somewhere or other, though no one but its members seemed to know
+just where that hall was.  Serena made inquiries, but neither
+servants nor mistresses had ever heard of the "Band."  Gertrude,
+when she heard of it, at first seemed to be much amused, and
+laughed heartily.  Then she became very grave and declared it a
+splendid thing and that she was delighted because Azuba had found
+her opportunity.  She was entitled to that opportunity, as was
+every free woman, and certainly neither Gertrude or her mother,
+being "free women" themselves, must offer objection or permit mere
+household drudgery to interfere.
+
+So Azuba "advanced" and preached and went out at night and
+occasionally during the day.  Gertrude and Serena went out all the
+time, when they were not entertaining themselves.  Life became a
+never-ending round of politics and society functions, followed by,
+on Mrs. Dott's part, sleepless nights and "nerves" and fretful
+worriment concerning Gertrude.  Gertrude did not appear to worry.
+She grew gayer and more gay, more careless in her manner and more
+slangy in her speech.  Mr. Holway continued to call and Cousin
+Percy to dance solicitous attendance.  John Doane's name was never
+mentioned in his fiancee's presence.  She would not speak, or
+permit others to speak, of him.
+
+And then Mr. Holway ceased to call.  His final call was a lengthy
+one, and he and Gertrude were alone during the latter part of it.
+The following day Daniel met him on the street and was barely
+recognized.  The captain was not greatly troubled at the slight--he
+did not care greatly for the lively Monty--but he was surprised.
+When he mentioned the meeting to his daughter the young lady
+smiled, but offered no explanation.  Her father did not press the
+point.  As Holway came no more and it became apparent that he was
+not coming, the captain was satisfied.
+
+Gertrude's strange behavior alarmed and troubled him, but his
+wife's ill health and her worn, weary expression alarmed him more.
+He was actually frightened concerning her.
+
+"Oh, Serena," he begged, "what makes you do it?  It isn't worth it.
+You're killin' yourself.  Let's give it up and go somewhere and
+rest.  The Queen of Sheba's job ain't worth it, let alone just
+bein' vice-president of Scarford Chapter."
+
+But Serena shook her head.  "I can't give it up, Daniel," she
+declared hysterically.  "I--I think I would if I could.  I really
+do.  Sometimes I feel as if I would give up everything just to be
+at peace and happy and contented again."
+
+"You bet!" with enthusiasm.  "So would I.  And we were contented at
+Trumet, wasn't we?  That is, I was; and you was enough sight better
+contented than you are now."
+
+"I know, I know.  But I can't give it up, Daniel.  Don't you see?
+I can't!  I mustn't think of myself at all.  See how loyally
+Annette and the rest have stood by me.  Their splendid loyalty is
+the one thing that makes it worth while.  I must keep up and fight
+on for their sakes.  I must be as true to them as they are to me.
+Would they desert me for anything?  No!  And I shan't desert them.
+I am going to be elected.  I know it.  After that, after the
+election is over, I may--I might, perhaps--"
+
+"You might go somewhere with me and have a good, comfortable time.
+All right, we will.  And Gertie can go, too."
+
+The mention of her daughter's name seemed to be more disturbing
+than all the rest.  Serena burst into tears.
+
+"She wouldn't go, Daniel!" she cried.  "You know she wouldn't.
+She--she is going crazy, I do believe.  She is wild about society
+and bridge--she told me only yesterday she wasn't sure that playing
+for money was wrong.  All my friends and her friends did it and why
+shouldn't we?  And she dances all these dreadful new dances and
+uses slang and--and--oh, she is--I don't know WHAT she will be if
+this keeps on.  Why does she do it?  WHO is responsible?"
+
+Daniel did not answer.  He had a feeling that he could, without
+moving from his chair, lay a hand upon the person chiefly
+responsible, but he kept that feeling to himself.
+
+"She'd go, if we wanted her to," he affirmed stoutly.
+
+"No, she wouldn't."
+
+"By time! she would.  You and I would make her.  I couldn't do it
+alone, I know that, but if you'll say the word and stand by me
+she'll go, if I have to--to give her ether and take her while she's
+asleep.  Say the word, that's all I want you to do."
+
+Serena did not say the word, not then.  She continued to moan and
+wring her hands.
+
+"She's all wrong, Daniel!" she cried.  "She does wrong things.  She
+is with--with Cousin Percy too much.  He and she are getting to be
+altogether too friendly.  She has dropped John for good, I'm
+afraid.  Oh, suppose she should--"
+
+The captain's anger burst forth at this expression of his own
+secret dread.
+
+"Suppose she should marry that Hungerford, you mean!" he cried.
+"She won't!  She won't!  She's too sensible, anyway; but, if she
+should, I--I'd rather see her dead.  Yes, sir, dead!"
+
+"So had I.  But Cousin Percy--"
+
+"D--n Cousin Percy!"
+
+For once his profanity met with no rebuke.  Serena did not appear
+to notice it.
+
+"He is not the right sort of man for her," she declared.  "He is
+polite and aristocratic and he has helped us in society; but he is
+dissipated and fast, I'm sure of it.  He has been out a great deal
+lately and comes home late, and I have heard him come up the stairs
+as if--as if--Oh, WHY did you insist on his staying here, living
+here with us?"
+
+"Why did _I_--Humph!  Well, that's all right.  That's all right,
+Serena.  You back me up in that, too, and he'll go out a sight
+quicker than he came in.  I'll see that he does.  He'll fly.  I can
+handle MEN even yet--though I don't seem to be good for much else."
+
+But Mrs. Dott wouldn't hear of it.  They couldn't PUT him out, she
+declared; think of the scandal!  No, no, no!  The interview ended
+by the captain's dismissal and Serena's getting ready for that
+evening's committee meeting.
+
+It developed that Azuba's "Band" met on that same evening.
+Gertrude and her mother had gone--they were to dine with the
+committee at Annette's--and when Daniel, at seven o'clock, shouted
+for his dinner, no dinner was ready.
+
+"I can't stop to fuss with dinner," said Azuba firmly.  "I've got
+to get ready for my Band meetin'.  All the afternoon I've been
+fussin' with my speech--I'm goin' to speak to-night--and now it's
+time for me to change my clothes.  I'm sorry, Cap'n Dott; I never
+neglected you afore; but this time I've got to.  There's plenty to
+eat in the ice-chest and you must wait on yourself.  No use to
+talk!  I ain't got time to listen."
+
+Captain Dan was furious.  This was a trifle too much.
+
+"You get that dinner!" he roared.  "Get it, or you'll never get
+another meal in this house!"
+
+"Won't I?  Why not?  Mrs. Dott said I might go to this meetin'.
+She'll understand."
+
+"By time, Zuba Ginn, I'll discharge you!  I will!  I don't care if
+you have been with us since Methusalem's time.  You old foolhead!
+At your age--"
+
+"I'm no older than your wife, Dan'l Dott.  And you can't discharge
+me, neither.  I wouldn't go.  I'm no Hapgood.  I've got rights and
+I'll stand up for 'em.  You ain't the boss, I guess.  If Serena
+discharges me, all right; but she won't.  There! don't talk to ME.
+I've got other fish to fry."
+
+She marched up the back stairs.  Daniel sprang after her, but she
+closed the door in his face.  For a moment he hesitated.  Then he
+turned back and, re-entering the kitchen, began to pace up and
+down, his hands in his pockets.
+
+He strode from the sink to the back door, wheeled and strode back
+again.  There was an odd expression on his face.  He frowned,
+muttered to himself, whistled, smiled, and once broke into a short
+laugh.  But, as he continued the pacing, gradually the frown
+and smile disappeared and his expression became one of grim
+determination.  His lips closed, his eyes puckered, and his stride
+lengthened.  His heels struck the oilcloth with sharp, quick
+thumps.  If one of his former shipmates, a foremast hand on the
+schooner Bluebird, could have seen him then, that foremast hand
+would have interpreted his behavior as a forerunner of trouble.  He
+would have known that the "old man" was making up his mind to a
+definite course of action and that, having made it up, he would
+keep to that course so long as he could see or breathe.
+
+And that interpretation would have been correct.  Captain Dan was
+desperate.  He had made up his mind to fight, to "put his foot
+down" at last.  Serena's ill health, Gertrude's conduct, the
+aggravating insolence of Cousin Percy, all these had helped to spur
+him to this pitch.  And now came Azuba's open rebellion and her
+declaration that his command amounted to nothing, that he was not
+the "boss."  It was true, that was the humiliating fact which
+stung.  He was not the boss; he was not even cabin boy, and he knew
+it.  But, to be openly told so, and by his cook, was a little too
+much.  The worm will turn--at least we are told that it will--and
+Daniel Dott was turning.
+
+He jerked his hands from his pockets and opened his mouth.
+
+"Azuba!" he roared.  "You, Zuba, come here!"
+
+Azuba did not answer.  She was in her room at the top of the house
+and, of course, did not hear the shout.  Before the captain could
+repeat it someone knocked at the back door.
+
+The knock was no hesitating, irresolute tap.  It was an emphatic,
+solid thump.  Daniel heard it, but, in his present state of mind,
+was in no mood to heed.
+
+"Zuba!" he repeated.  "Zuba Ginn, are you comin' here or shall I
+come after you?  ZUBA!"
+
+The back door was merely latched, not locked.  Now it was thrown
+open, a heavy step sounded in the entry and a voice, a man's voice,
+said, in a shout almost as loud as the captain's, "Yes, Zuba;
+that's what I was cal'latin' to say, myself.  Who--why, hello,
+Cap'n Dan!  How are you?"
+
+Daniel turned.  A man had entered the kitchen, a big man, wearing a
+cloth cap, and carrying in one hand a lumpy oilcloth valise.  He
+tossed the valise to the floor, grinned, and extended a hand.
+
+"Well, Cap'n Dan," he observed, "you look as natural as life.  _I_
+must have changed, I cal'late.  Don't you know me?"
+
+The captain's eyes were opening wider and wider.  "Labe!" he
+exclaimed; "Laban Ginn!  Where in the world did you come from?"
+
+The person who had so unceremoniously entered the kitchen was
+Azuba's husband, mate of the tramp steamer.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+"For the land sakes!  Laban Ginn!" repeated Daniel.
+
+Mr. Ginn grinned cheerfully.  He was six feet tall, or thereabouts,
+and more than half as wide.  His hair and beard were grayish red
+and his face reddish brown.  He was dressed in the regulation
+"shore togs" of a deep sea sailor, blue double-breasted jacket,
+blue trousers and waistcoat, white "biled" shirt, low collar--
+celluloid, by the look--and a "made" bow tie which hung from the
+button by a worn loop of elastic.  His hands were as red as his
+face and of a size proportionate to the rest of him.  He seized the
+captain's hand in one of his, crushed it to a pulp, and returned
+the remains to the chief mourner.
+
+"Well, say," he cried, his grin widening, "that feels natural,
+don't it?  Last time you and me shook hands was over three years
+ago.  How are you?  Blessed if it ain't good to see you again."
+
+Captain Dan was slowly regaining his equilibrium.
+
+"Same to you, Labe," he returned heartily.  "But--but, by Godfreys,
+you're the last person I expected to see just now."
+
+"Yep, I shouldn't wonder."
+
+"Sit down, sit down.  Humph!  Does Azuba know you're comin'?"
+
+"No, not yet."
+
+"Well, sit down and I'll call her.  She's here with us, of course."
+
+"Sartin she is.  Where else would she be?  I knew she was here;
+heard you hailin' her just as I made port at the back door.  Set
+down?"  He threw himself into a chair, which groaned under the
+pressure.  "Sure, I'll set down!  Feels kind of good to drop anchor
+when you've been cruisin's long as I have.  No, Zuby don't know I'm
+comin'.  Last time I wrote her was from Mauritius.  I've been to
+clink and gone since.  She WILL be surprised, won't she?  Ho! ho!
+Did I leave the hatch open?  Here, let me shut it."
+
+But Daniel himself shut the "hatch," that is to say, the back door.
+He was on his way to the stairs, but Mr. Ginn detained him.
+
+"Hold on a shake, Cap'n," he said.  "I ain't hardly seen you yet.
+Let's have a look at you."  Crossing his legs--his feet were like
+miniature trunks--he added, "How are you, anyway?"
+
+Daniel replied that he was fair to middling.
+
+"Sit still and make yourself comfortable, Labe," he went on.  "I'll
+tell Zuba you're here."
+
+"What's your hurry?  Give me a chance to catch my breath.  I lugged
+that dunnage bag," indicating the valise, "from the depot up here,
+and I feel as if I'd strained every plank in my hull.  Ought to go
+into dry dock and refit, I had.  I landed in Philadelphy a week
+ago," he continued.  "Quit the old steamer for good, I have.  Me
+and the skipper had some words and I told him where he could go.
+Ho! ho!  I don't know whether he went or not; anyhow, I started for
+Trumet.  Got there and found you'd come into money and had moved to
+Scarford and was livin' with the big-bugs.  Some house you've got
+here, ain't it!  Soon's I see it I headed for the back door.  'A
+first cabin companion like that's no place for me,' I says.  Ho!
+ho!  Besides, I cal'lated to find Zuby Jane out in the fo'castle
+here.  Didn't expect to locate you, though, in this end of the
+ship.  How's it seem to be rich?  Ain't got fat on it, have you."
+
+Daniel, amused in spite of his recent ill temper, shook his head.
+
+"Not yet," he answered.  "So you've been ashore a week and your
+wife doesn't know it?  Why didn't you write to her from
+Philadelphia?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know.  Zuby and me's got an understandin' about that,
+and other things.  There's nothin' like havin' a clear understandin'
+to make married folks get along together.  We write letters, of
+course, but we don't write very often.  I'm li'ble to be 'most
+anywheres on the face of the earth, and it makes me fidgety to think
+there's letters chasin' me round and I ain't gettin' 'em.  I say to
+Zuby, 'Long's you don't hear from me you'll know I'm all right, and
+long's I don't hear from you I'll know the same.  We'll write when
+we feel like it.  I'll come home as often as I can, and when I come
+I'll fetch you my share of the wages.'  That's our understandin' and
+it's a good one.  We ain't had a fight since we was spliced; or, if
+we have, I always stop it right off--stop her part, I mean.  Where
+IS the old gal, anyhow?"
+
+"She's up in her room, I presume likely."
+
+"Oh, is she?  Well, she'll be down in a jiffy.  If she ain't I'll
+go up and give her a surprise."
+
+"I'll call her, if you give me a chance."
+
+"No, no, you needn't.  No 'special hurry.  She's waited for three
+years; cal'late ten minutes more won't hurt neither of us.  Had
+your supper yet?"
+
+Daniel smiled grimly.  "Not yet," he replied.
+
+"Then she'll be down to get it, of course.  I shan't stop her; I'm
+empty as a rum bottle four days out of port.  You folks eat late,
+don't you?"
+
+"Sometimes."
+
+"I should think so.  What's Zuby doin' up in her room this time of
+night?"
+
+"She said she was goin' to change her clothes."
+
+"Oh, yes, yes; I see.  Well, 'twon't take her long.  If I went up
+I'd only hold her back, and I want my supper.  Let's have a smoke,
+Dan, while we're waitin'."
+
+He patted one pocket after the other and finally located a chunky,
+battered pipe, which he proceeded to fill with shavings from a
+black plug.  Daniel watched him.  A new idea was dawning in his
+mind, an idea which seemed to afford him some pleasurable
+anticipation.  Mr. Ginn looked up from his tobacco shaving.
+
+"Now, tell me about all this money of yours," he commanded.  "I
+didn't hear nothin' else at Trumet; that and your wife's gettin' to
+be commodore of some woman's lodge or other was all they talked
+about.  Hey?  Why, where's your pipe?  Ain't you goin' to smoke?
+I've got plenty terbacker."
+
+Daniel looked dubious.  "I guess not, Labe," he said.  "Zuba--well,
+the fact is, Zuba doesn't like people to smoke in her kitchen."
+
+Laban's face expressed astonishment.  "She don't!" he cried.  "She
+don't?  How long since?"
+
+"Oh, almost ever since she came here.  It is one of her new ways."
+
+"'Tis, hey?  Well, I like the old ones better, myself.  Never you
+mind her ways; trot out your pipe and light up.  I--"
+
+He was interrupted by his companion, who made a flying jump toward
+the stove.  The teakettle was boiling over.
+
+"Let it bile," commented Mr. Ginn.  "'Tain't your funeral, is it?
+You ain't supposed to boss the galley.  That's the cook's business,
+not the skipper's."
+
+But Daniel carefully removed the kettle to a place of safety.
+
+"It's my business to-night," he said.  "I'm gettin' my own supper."
+
+Mr. Ginn straightened in his chair.  "You be?" he exclaimed.  "You
+BE?  What for?  Ain't there no women folks in the house?  Ain't
+Zuby--why, you said--"
+
+"I know I said, but what I say don't seem to amount to much.  You
+see, Labe, your wife has got some of what MY wife calls advanced
+ideas.  She belongs to some kind of a lodge herself, and this is
+their meetin' night.  Just before you came Zuba made proclamations
+that I could cook my own supper.  She said she couldn't stop to do
+it; she'd be late to the meetin' if she did."
+
+Laban's mouth opened.  The pipe fell from it, scattering sparks
+like a Roman candle, and bounced upon the spotless floor of the
+kitchen.  Daniel would have picked it up, but his visitor
+intervened.  He put one mammoth foot upon the sparks and, leaning
+forward, demanded instant attention.
+
+"For thunder sakes, Dan Dott!" he cried.  "Never mind that pipe;
+let it alone.  For thunder sakes, tell me what you're talkin'
+about?  Zuby--Zuby Jane Ginn racin' to lodges and tellin' you--YOU--
+to cook your own meals!  Go on!  You're loony."
+
+"Maybe I am, Labe, but it's so."
+
+"It's so?  And you let it be so?  I don't believe it.  What do you
+mean?  How long has it been so?"
+
+Captain Dan proceeded to tell of his housekeeper's conversion to
+progress and advancement.  He did not suppress any of the details;
+in fact, he magnified them just a bit.
+
+"She's a free woman, so she says, Labe," he said, in conclusion.
+"And a free woman has a right to be free."
+
+"Is that so!  That's what she says, hey?  And you let her say it?
+Why, you--you--"  He hesitated, hovering between candid expression
+and the respect due an ex-skipper of a three-master.  "Wh-what do
+you have such goin's on in your house for?" he demanded.  "What
+makes you let the gang afore the mast run over you this way?  Why
+don't you--who's that upstairs; your wife?"
+
+"No, my wife is out.  I shouldn't wonder if that was Zuba.  She's
+on her way to the door, probably."
+
+"She is, hey?  Call her down here.  Sing out to her to come down.
+Hi!" as the captain stepped to the stairs, "don't say nothin' about
+me."
+
+Daniel, suppressing a grin, shouted up the stairs.
+
+"Zuba!" he called.  "Zuba, come down here a minute."
+
+Azuba answered, but in no complacent tone.  "Don't bother me, Cap'n
+Dott," she protested.  "I'm late as 'tis."
+
+"Just a minute, Zuba, that's all.  One minute, please."
+
+Mr. Ginn snorted at the "please."  They heard the housekeeper
+descending.  At the bottom step she sniffed loudly.
+
+"I do believe it's tobacco smoke!" she exclaimed.  "Cap'n Dott,
+have you been smokin' in my kitchen?"
+
+She entered the room, waving an indignant arm.  She was dressed in
+her Sunday best, bonnet and all.
+
+"What!" she began, and then, suddenly aware that her employer was
+not alone, turned to stare at his companion.  "Why!" she exclaimed;
+"who--oh, my soul!  LABAN!"
+
+"Hello, Zuby!" roared her husband, rising to greet her.  "How be
+you, old gal?"
+
+Before she could speak or move he seized her in his arms, squeezed
+her to him, and pressed a kiss like the report of a fire-cracker
+upon her cheek.  "How be you, Zuby?" he repeated.
+
+"Oh, Labe!" gasped Azuba.  "Labe!"
+
+"I'm Labe, all right.  No doubt about that. . . .  Well, why don't
+you say somethin'?  Ain't you glad to see me?"
+
+Azuba looked as if she did not know whether she was glad or not; in
+fact, as if she knew or realized any little of anything.
+
+"Labe!" she said again.  "Laban Ginn!  When--WHERE did you come
+from?"
+
+"Oh, from all 'round.  Trumet was my last port and I made that by
+way of Malagy and Philadelphy.  But I'm here, anyhow, and that's
+somethin'.  My! it's good to see you.  You look as natural as life.
+Set down and let's look at you."
+
+The housekeeper sat down; she appeared glad of the opportunity.
+Her husband faced her, grinning broadly.
+
+"Just as handsome as ever; hey, old lady," he observed.  "And look
+at the duds!  Say, you're rigged up fine, from truck to keelson,
+ain't you, Zuby!  Never seen you rigged finer.  A body would think
+she knew I was comin', wouldn't they, Cap'n Dan?"
+
+Daniel did not answer, although he seemed much interested in the
+situation.
+
+Azuba drew a hand across her forehead.
+
+"I DIDN'T know it," she declared emphatically.  "Indeed, I didn't!
+Why didn't you write me, Laban Ginn?"
+
+"Write!  Write nothin'!  I wanted to surprise you.  But there,
+there!  Don't set around in that rig any longer.  Makes me feel as
+if you'd come to call on the parson.  Take off your coat and bonnet
+and let's be sociable.  And while we're talkin' you turn to and get
+supper.  I'm pretty nigh starved to death.  So's the cap'n; he said
+so."
+
+Mrs. Ginn looked at Captain Dan.  There was a twinkle in his eye.
+Azuba noticed that twinkle.
+
+"Laban," she stammered, "I--I--I CAN'T stay here and get supper to-
+night.  I can't."
+
+Laban was tremendously surprised--at least he pretended to be.
+
+"Can't!" he repeated.  "Can't stay here, when I've just got home?"
+
+"No, I can't.  If I had known you was comin' 'twould have been
+different.  But I didn't know it."
+
+"What difference does that make?  Zuby, don't make me laugh; I'm
+too hungry for jokin'.  Take off your bonnet, now; take it off."
+
+"I mustn't, really, Labe.  It's lodge night and they expect me.
+I--"
+
+"Take off your bonnet!"
+
+"I can't! . . .  Well, I will, for just a minute."  The last
+sentence was added in a great hurry, for her husband showed signs
+of preparing to remove the headgear with his own hands.  She placed
+the bonnet on the table and fidgeted in her chair, glancing first
+at her employer and then at the clock.  Captain Dan was smiling
+broadly.
+
+"That's fine!" exclaimed Mr. Ginn.  "Now you look like home folks.
+Now she'll get us some supper, won't she, Cap'n?"
+
+Again Daniel did not answer, but his smile, as Azuba interpreted
+it, was provokingly triumphant.  Her lips closed tightly.
+
+"I can't get any supper to-night, Laban," she declared firmly.  "I
+just can't.  I'm awful sorry, bein' as you've just got home, but
+you'll have to forgive me.  I'll explain when you and me are
+alone."
+
+"Explain?  Explain what?"
+
+"Why--why--" with another look, almost vindictive, at the grinning
+captain, "what my reason is.  But I can't tell you now--I can't."
+
+"That's all right.  I don't care about explainin's.  You can
+explain any old time; just now, me and the cap'n want our supper."
+
+"I shan't get your supper.  I told Cap'n Dott I couldn't before I
+went upstairs.  I'm goin' out."
+
+"No, no, you ain't.  Quit your foolin', old lady.  I'm gettin'
+emptier every minute.  So are you, ain't you, Cap'n?"
+
+Daniel hesitated, looked at his housekeeper's face, and burst into
+a roar of laughter.  That laugh decided the question.  Azuba rose.
+
+"Don't talk to me," she snapped.  "I'm sorry, but it serves you
+right, Laban, for comin' home without sendin' me word; and just at
+the wrong time, too.  Give me that bonnet."
+
+She reached for the bonnet, but her husband reached it first.
+"'Tain't much of a bonnet, anyhow, Zuby," he said.  "Now I look at
+it closer I don't think it's becomin' to your style of complexion.
+Some day I'll buy you another."
+
+"Give me that bonnet, Laban Ginn!"
+
+"I don't like to see that bonnet around, Zuby.  Let's get it out of
+sight quick."
+
+His wife sprang at the bonnet, but he barred her off with an arm
+like a fence-rail, removed a lid from the stove, put the unbecoming
+article in on the red-hot coals, and replaced the lid.  "There!" he
+said, "that helps the scenery, don't it?  Now let's have supper."
+
+Captain Dan laughed again.  For an instant Azuba stared, white-
+faced, at the cremation of the bonnet.  Then she darted to the
+door.  "I'll go now," she cried, "if I have to go bareheaded!  I'll
+show you!  Let go of me!"
+
+Mr. Ginn had thrown an arm about her waist.  She pulled his hair
+and gave him some vigorous slaps on the cheek, but he smiled on.
+"You want to get supper, Zuby," he coaxed.  "I know you do.  You
+just think it over now.  It's too noisy out here to do much
+thinkin'.  Where's a nice quiet place?  Oh! this'll be first rate."
+
+He bore her, kicking like a jumping-jack, across the kitchen to the
+closet where the pans and cooking utensils were kept.  "Think it
+over in there, Zuby," he said calmly, shutting the door and
+planting himself in a chair against it.  "That's a fine place to
+think.  Now, Cap'n, you and me can have our smoke, while she's
+thinkin' what to give us to eat; hey?"
+
+Judging by the thumps and kicks and screams inside the closet the
+housekeeper's thoughts were otherwise engaged.
+
+"You let me out, Labe Ginn!" she screamed.  "Cap'n Dott, you make
+him let me out!"
+
+Daniel, weary from laughing, could only gasp.
+
+"I can't, Zuba!" he answered, choking.  "I can't!  It ain't my
+affair.  I couldn't interfere between husband and wife.  You're a
+free woman, Zuba, you know.  You ought to be advanced enough by
+this time to fight your own battles."
+
+"That's right, Zuba," counseled Mr. Ginn.  "Fight 'em out in there.
+You can be just as free in there as you want to.  Have some of my
+terbacker, Cap'n?"
+
+Captain Dan declined.  The prisoner continued to thump and kick and
+threaten.  Her jailer refilled and lighted his pipe.
+
+"Thought over that bill of fare, Zuby?" he shouted, after a time.
+
+More thumps and threats; tears as well.  Daniel began to feel pity
+instead of triumph.
+
+"Hadn't you better, Labe," he began.  Mr. Ginn waved him to
+silence.
+
+"How about supper, Zuby?" he called.  "Oh, all right, all right.  I
+don't know as I'm as hungry as I was, anyway.  Appetite's kind of
+passin' off, I cal'late.  You stay in there and think till mornin',
+and we'll have it for breakfast."
+
+Silence--actual silence--for a moment.  Then Azuba asked, in a
+half-smothered but much humbler voice, "Oh, Labe! WON'T you let me
+out?"
+
+"Sure thing--if you've thought up that supper for me and Cap'n
+Dan'l."
+
+"But I did so want--oh, if I could only tell you!  It was SO
+necessary for me to go to that meetin'.  You've spiled everything,
+and just as 'twas goin' so nice.  What Gertie'll say I don't know."
+
+Daniel developed a new interest.
+
+"Gertie?" he repeated.  "Hush, Labe! wait a minute.  What's Gertie
+got to do with it?"
+
+"Nothin', nothin'.  Oh, Labe, PLEASE."
+
+"Well, I tell you, Zuby: it's close to nine now, and that's too
+late for you to be cruisin' out to meetin's.  Sorry you have to
+miss the speeches and things, but--Say, I tell you what I'll do.
+If it's a sermon you want I'll preach you one, myself.  Make it up
+while you're settin' the table.  Ready to come out and be good?
+That's right.  Now, I bet you she's thought up somethin' that'll
+make our mouths water, Cap'n."
+
+The crestfallen housekeeper emerged, blinking, from her thinking
+place.  She removed her coat and, without even a glance at her
+employer, proceeded to adjust the dampers of the stove.  Captain
+Dan rose from his chair.
+
+"I'm afraid I can't stop to have supper with you, Labe," he said.
+"I've got an--an errand to do outside, myself.  I'll eat at a
+restaurant or somewhere.  You'll stay here to-night, of course.
+I'll see you in the mornin'.  Good-night!  Good-night, Zuby!"
+
+Azuba did not reply.  Laban shouted protests.  What was the sense
+of going just when supper was being made ready at last?  Daniel,
+however, did not stay to listen.  He climbed the back stairs to the
+hall, put on his overcoat and hat and went out.  He had been too
+tender-hearted to remain in the kitchen and gloat, or appear to
+gloat, over a "free woman's" humiliation.  Nevertheless, he
+astonished the waiter at the restaurant where he ate dinner by
+bursting into laughter at intervals, and with no obvious cause.
+The waiter suspected that the old gentleman from the country had
+been drinking, and the size of the tip he received helped to
+confirm his suspicion.
+
+His dinner eaten, Captain Dan walked slowly home.  Unlocking the
+front door with his latchkey he tiptoed through the hall and
+listened at the head of the back stairs.  There was a steady murmur
+of voices in the kitchen.  He heard a bass grumble from Mr. Ginn
+and Azuba's shrill reply.  Then the pair burst into a laugh.
+Evidently some sort of understanding on a peaceful basis had been
+reached.  Still chuckling, the captain went up to his bedroom,
+removed his outer garments and his shoes, put on his bathrobe and
+slippers, and settled himself, with the evening paper, to await his
+wife's return.  He resolved to be awake when she did return; he had
+news for her.  Filled with this resolution, he read for three-
+quarters of an hour steadily, then at intervals between naps, and
+at last dropped into a sound sleep, the paper in his lap.
+
+Gertrude and Serena came home at a surprisingly early hour.  Not
+that the committee meeting was over; it was not.  In fact, the
+elaborate dinner spread before her supporters by the grateful Mrs.
+Black had scarcely reached its last course when Gertrude suddenly
+rose from the table and hastened to her mother's side.  She had
+been watching the latter with increasing anxiety all the evening.
+
+"What is it, Mother?" she asked.  "What is it?"
+
+Serena, sitting with her elbow on the table, her hand to her
+forehead, and her untasted ice before her, looked up in a
+bewildered way.
+
+"What--why, what do you mean, Gertie?" she stammered.  "What--I
+don't think I understood you."
+
+"What is the matter, Mother?" repeated Gertrude.  "Don't you feel
+well?"
+
+Still Mrs. Dott did not seem to understand.  She tried to smile,
+but the vague uncertainty of the smile caused even Annette, who had
+been deep in discussion of a plan for securing the vote of a still
+doubtful member, to cease speaking and regard her guest with
+surprise.
+
+"What is it, Mother?" urged Gertrude.  "You look so strange.  Are
+you ill?"
+
+Serena gazed at her for a moment, rose, stood looking about in the
+same hesitating, uncertain manner, and then, throwing her arms
+about her daughter's neck, burst into hysterical sobs.
+
+The alarmed guests clustered about them, asking questions,
+exclaiming, and offering suggestions.
+
+"What IS it?" demanded Annette.  "My DEAR!  What IS it?"
+
+Serena, still clinging to Gertrude, continued to sob.
+
+"I--I don't know," she moaned.  "I--I feel so strange.  I'm--I'm
+tired, I guess.  I'm--I'm worn out.  I--oh, Gertie, take me home.
+Take me home--please."
+
+"Yes, yes, Mother, dear.  We will go home at once.  Come."
+
+She led her into the next room.  Annette, hastening with a glass of
+wine and the smelling salts, caught the young lady's arm.
+
+"She isn't going to be ill, seriously sick, is she?" she demanded.
+"You don't think she is.  It would be dreadful if she was."
+
+Gertrude shook her head.
+
+"I don't know," she answered.  "I certainly hope not.  Will you
+call a carriage, Mrs. Black?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I'll call one right away.  Oh, I hope she isn't going to
+be sick.  It would be dreadful--just now.  The election is only two
+weeks off, and without her I--we should be almost certain to lose.
+I know we should.  Oh, Serena, DEAR! you WON'T be sick, will you?
+for my sake!"
+
+It did not seem to occur to the agitated Annette that her friend
+might not care to be ill, for her own sake.  But it was evident
+that Gertrude was thinking just that.  The young lady's tone was
+sharp and decidedly cold.
+
+"She is tired out," she said.  "She has worn herself out working
+for her--for her friends, Mrs. Black.  Will you call the carriage?"
+
+"Yes, yes.  They are calling it now.  I'm so sorry the chauffeur--
+or--or Phelps--is out.  If he--if they were not you could use our
+car.  But, oh, Serena--"
+
+Serena looked up.  She was calmer now, she had heard, and loyally
+she answered.
+
+"Don't worry, Annette," she said.  "I am not going to be sick.  I
+won't.  You can depend on me.  Oh, Gertie, I'm SO tired!  My poor
+head!"
+
+The carriage came and she and Gertrude were driven home.  Annette
+did not offer to accompany them.  It was such an important meeting
+and there were so many things to talk about, she explained.  She
+would call the very next day.  Serena thanked her; Gertrude said
+nothing.
+
+Serena seemed better on the way home.  When they reached the house
+she announced bravely that she was all right again; all she needed
+was a night's rest, that was all.  Gertrude insisted on accompanying
+her to her room.  They found Daniel asleep in the chair, and to
+him his daughter explained the situation.  The captain was too
+greatly disturbed to think of his "news," the news of Mr. Ginn's
+arrival and Azuba's subjection.
+
+"You get right into bed, Serena," he ordered.  "Gertie, you call
+the doctor."
+
+But his wife would not hear of the doctor.  "Nonsense!" she
+declared.  "I don't need any doctor.  I want to go to bed.  I'm
+tired--tired.  I won't see the doctor or anybody else.  Go, Gertie,
+please go.  Your father will be with me.  Please go!  I am all
+right now."
+
+Gertrude went, but she whispered to the captain that she would wait
+in the library and, if they needed her, he was to be sure and call.
+
+In the library she took a book--one of Aunt Lavinia's legacies--
+from the shelf and tried to read, but that was impossible.  She
+could not read, she could only think, and thinking was most
+unpleasant.  Her conscience was troubling her.  Had she been wrong?
+Had she gone too far?  She had meant well, her plan had seemed the
+only solution of the family problem, but perhaps she had made a
+mistake.  She loved her mother devotedly.  Oh, if anything serious
+should happen--if, because of her, her mother should be ill--if--if
+she should.  She could not think of it.  She would never forgive
+herself, never.  It had been all wrong from the beginning, and she
+had been wicked and foolish.  It had cost her so much already; her
+own life's happiness.  And yet--and yet, she had meant to do right.
+But now, after that misunderstanding and consequent sacrifice, if
+her mother should--
+
+She broke down and was very, very miserable.
+
+Someone was at the front door, fumbling with a latchkey.  Gertrude
+hurriedly sprang from her chair, wiped her eyes with her
+handkerchief and was on her way to the hall when the door opened.
+The hall was dark; she had turned off the light when she came
+downstairs; and for a moment she could not see who it was that had
+entered.  She, however, was in the full glow from the electrolier
+in the library and Mr. Hungerford saw her.
+
+"Ah, Gertrude," he said cheerfully.  "Is that you?  Don't go.
+Don't go."
+
+He was at the doorway before she could reach it.  He had been
+dining out with some masculine friends--"old college chums," he had
+explained when announcing the situation--and was in evening dress.
+
+"Don't go," he repeated.  "What's the hurry?  Wait a minute and
+I'll join you."
+
+He removed his overcoat and silk hat and tossed them carelessly
+upon the hall table.  The hat fell to the floor, but he did not
+heed it.  Then he entered the library.
+
+"What!" he exclaimed.  "Alone?  Burning the midnight oil and all
+that sort of thing.  Where is old--er--where's your father?"
+
+Gertrude replied that her father had retired.  She was about to do
+so, she added.  It was untrue, but she was not in the mood for a
+conversation with anyone, least of all with Cousin Percy.
+
+Cousin Percy, however, appeared decidedly conversational.  His face
+was a trifle flushed and he smiled more than seemed necessary.
+
+"Well," he observed, "this is an unexpected pleasure.  Didn't
+expect to find anyone up at this hour."
+
+Gertrude curtly remarked that it was not late.
+
+"I didn't mean up, I meant in.  Did I say 'up'?  Most extraordinary.
+I thought you and Mrs. Dott were playing the political game this
+evening.  Expected to find you out and old--the respected captain,
+I mean--in the arms of--what's his name?--Morpheus.  That's all
+right, though; that's all right.  So much the better.  We can talk--
+you and I."
+
+"I don't feel like talking.  You must excuse me."
+
+"What?  Don't feel like talking?  Cruel!  Why not?  It isn't late;
+you said so yourself."
+
+"I know but--really, you must excuse me."
+
+She was moving toward the door, but again he stepped in her way.
+
+"Now, Gertie," he said.  Then he broke into a laugh.  "Called you
+Gertie, didn't I?" he said.  "Beg pardon.  Quite unintentional.  It
+slipped out before I thought.  But you don't mind, do you?  It's a
+pretty name.  Just a little bit less formal than Gertrude, eh?
+Don't you think so--Gertie?"
+
+Gertrude hesitated.  She was humiliated and angry, but she did not
+wish a scene.  Her parents might hear and her mother must on no
+account be disturbed.
+
+"Perhaps it is," she answered.
+
+"Then you don't mind?"
+
+"No.  Now, Percy, you must excuse me.  Goodnight!"
+
+"Wait!  Wait!  Gertie, I have something to say to you.  Been
+wanting to say it for a long time, but haven't had the opportunity.
+You have kept out of my way.  Ha! ha! you know you have.  Perhaps
+you guessed I wanted to say it.  Was that it?  Ha! ha! was it now?
+Confess; was it?"
+
+Gertrude did not answer.  She moved toward the door.  Mr.
+Hungerford laughingly blocked the passage.
+
+"No, no!" he cried.  "No, no!  Mustn't run away.  I am going to say
+it, and you must hear me.  Come, don't be cross."
+
+"Mr. Hungerford, will you stand aside?  I can not talk with you to-
+night, or listen.  I am going to my room."
+
+The tone in which this was uttered should have been a warning, but
+Cousin Percy was in no condition to recognize warnings, or to heed
+them if he had.  His smile grew more tender and his tone more
+intimate.
+
+"Not yet," he smiled; "not just yet.  I can't permit it.  Gertie,
+I--"
+
+"If you don't stand aside I shall call my father."
+
+"What?  Call the old gentleman?  No, you don't mean it.  Of course
+you don't.  You wouldn't be so unreasonable.  Come, come! we're
+friends at least.  We understand each other, don't we?"
+
+"I understand YOU, thoroughly."
+
+"Of course you do," with a triumphant leer.  "And you know what I
+am going to say.  Ah ha!  I was sure you did.  And you've
+confessed.  Gertie, my dearest girl, I--What!  Going?  Not until
+you pay toll.  I'm keeper of the gate and you must pay before you
+pass, you know.  If you won't listen you must pay.  Ha! ha!"
+
+He held out his hands.  Gertrude shrank back.  She was not afraid
+of him, but she did fear a scene.  She had threatened to call her
+father, but she could not do that.  If she did her mother would be
+frightened.  She moved away, to the other side of the library
+table.
+
+Cousin Percy interpreted her retreat as a sign of surrender.  He
+followed her, laughing.
+
+"Come!" he insisted.  "I knew you didn't mean it.  Come, my dear!
+Just one.  I--"
+
+He tripped over the captain's favorite footstool and fell to his
+knees.  With a sudden movement Gertrude jerked the cord of the
+electrolier on the table.  The lights went out.  She dodged around
+the table, through the doorway, into the hall, and up the stairs.
+Mr. Hungerford, pawing in the darkness at the offending footstool,
+swore.  Then he laughed.
+
+"Good!" he exclaimed.  "Very good, but not good enough.  You can't
+escape that way.  I shall find you.  Where are you hiding?  Eh!
+Ah, there you are!"
+
+He had scrambled to his feet and hurried to the doorway.  There
+were the sounds of footsteps and the rustle of skirts at the other
+end of the hall.
+
+"There you are!" he cried.  "I've caught you.  Now you must pay--
+twice."
+
+He put his arm about a feminine waist and imprinted a kiss upon a
+feminine cheek.  Then his own cheek received a slap which made his
+head ring, and the hall echoed with a shrill scream.
+
+"Labe!" shrieked Azuba.  "Oh, Labe!  Help!  Come quick!"
+
+Mr. Ginn came up the back stairs three steps at a time.
+
+"What is it?  What's the matter, Zuby?" he demanded.
+
+"A man!  A man!  He--he--"
+
+"Where is he?  What's he doin'?"
+
+"He--there he is.  Hear him?  There!"
+
+Mr. Hungerford, paralyzed with astonishment and dizzy from the
+slap, had moved, injudiciously.  Laban heard him.
+
+"Hey?" he bellowed.  "Ah!  I've got him.  Stand still, dum you!
+I've got him, Zuby.  Who is he?  What did he do?"
+
+"I--I don't know who he is," panted the frightened housekeeper.
+"He--he kissed me."
+
+"KISSED you!  YOU?  Why--"
+
+"It's a mistake!" cried Cousin Percy, frantically struggling in the
+grasp of his captor.  "I--Stop!  Stop!  Help!  Help!"
+
+The hall became a pandemonium of thumps, struggles, cries for help,
+and pleas for mercy.  Azuba added her shrieks to the tumult.  From
+above Captain Dan shouted and Serena screamed.  Then the chandelier
+blazed.  Gertrude had pressed the button at the top of the stairs.
+
+"Let him be!" ordered the young lady, rushing to the rescue.
+"Don't! don't!  Azuba, stop him!"
+
+"Labe! stop! stop!" pleaded the housekeeper.  "You--My soul! it's
+Mr. Hungerford."
+
+It was what there was left of Mr. Hungerford.  Mr. Ginn extended
+the disheveled, whimpering remnant at arm's length and regarded it.
+
+"Humph!" he grunted.  "You know him, do you?"
+
+"Know him!  Of course I do.  But--but I must say--"
+
+Captain Dan came tearing down the stairs, his bathrobe fluttering
+and a slipper missing.  In one hand he held a pair of scissors, the
+only offensive weapon which he had found available at the moment.
+
+"What in blazes?" he demanded.  "Burglars, is it?"
+
+Gertrude answered.  "No, Daddy," she said gravely.  "It's no one
+but Cousin Percy.  And--and Mr. Ginn.  Why, Mr. Ginn, is--is it
+you?"
+
+Laban nodded.  "It's me, all right," he observed grimly.  "Who the
+devil is this?  That's what I want to know."
+
+Daniel turned to the captive.
+
+"Why--why, Percy!" he gasped.  "What--what's happened to you?  Let
+go of him, Labe Ginn!  Percy Hungerford, what--what's all this?"
+
+Mr. Hungerford, suddenly freed from the grasp upon his torn shirt
+collar, staggered against the wall.
+
+"It's--it's a mistake," he panted.  "I--I--this--this blackguard
+assaulted me.  I--I--"
+
+"Assaulted you!  I should say he had.  Labe Ginn, what did you
+assault him for?"
+
+Mr. Ginn glared at his victim.
+
+"Blackguard, am I?" he growled.  "Humph!  Well, if he starts to
+callin' me names, I'll--"
+
+"Belay!  Answer me!  What have you been doin' to him?  Look at him!
+What do you mean by assaultin' him that way?"
+
+"What do I mean?  When a man comes home from sea and finds another
+man kissin' his wife, what would he be likely to mean?"
+
+Daniel could not answer.  He looked about him in absolute
+bewilderment.  Gertrude choked and turned away.
+
+"Kissin'!" repeated Captain Dan.  "Kissin' your wife?  Kissin'
+ZUBA!  I--I--am I crazy, or are you, or--or is he?"
+
+Apparently he judged the last surmise to be the most likely.
+Cousin Percy, frantic with rage and humiliation, tried to protest.
+
+"It's a lie!" he cried.  "It's a lie!"
+
+The captain turned to his housekeeper.
+
+"Zuba," he demanded, "what sort of lunatic business is this?  Do
+you know?"
+
+Azuba straightened.
+
+"I don't know much," she announced sharply.  "All I know is that I
+come upstairs in the dark and he grabbed me and--and said somethin'
+about my payin' him--and then he--he--done the other thing.  That's
+all I know, and it's enough.  Don't talk to ME!  I never was so
+surprised and mortified in MY life."
+
+"But--but what's it mean?  Can't anybody tell me, for the Lord
+sakes?"
+
+Gertrude stepped forward.  "I think I understand," she said.  "Our
+cousin made a mistake, that's all.  I will explain at another time,
+Daddy.  If--if you will all go away, he and I will have an
+interview.  I think I can settle it better than anyone else.  Go,
+please.  I'm sure Mother needs you."
+
+The mention of his wife caused her father to forget everything
+else, even his overwhelming curiosity.
+
+"My soul!" he cried.  "She heard this; and--and I left her all
+alone."
+
+He bolted up the stairs.  Gertrude's next remark was addressed to
+the housekeeper.
+
+"Azuba," she said, "would you and your husband mind leaving us?
+Perhaps you'd better not go to bed.  I--I may need Mr. Ginn later
+on; perhaps I may.  But if you and he were to go down to the
+kitchen and wait just a few moments I should be so much obliged.
+Will you?"
+
+Azuba hesitated.
+
+"Leave you?" she repeated.  "With--with him?"
+
+"Yes.  I have something to say to him.  Something important."
+
+She and Azuba exchanged looks.  The latter nodded.
+
+"All right," she said decisively; "course we'll go.  Come, Labe."
+
+But Laban seemed loath to move.
+
+"I ain't got through with him yet," he observed.  "I'd only begun."
+
+"You come with me.  Have you forgot all I told you so soon?  Come!"
+
+"Hey?  No; no, I ain't forgot.  Is this part of it?"
+
+"Part of it's part of it; the rest ain't.  You come, 'fore you do
+any more spilin'.  Come, now."
+
+Mr. Ginn went.  At the head of the back stairs he paused.
+
+"You'll sing out if you need me?" he asked.  "You will, won't you?
+You'll only have to sing once."
+
+He tramped heavily down.  Gertrude walked over to the victim of the
+"mistake" and its consequences.
+
+"I think," she said coldly, "that you had better go."
+
+"Go?"  Mr. Hungerford looked at her.  "Go?" he repeated.
+
+"Yes.  I give you this opportunity.  There will not be another.  Go
+to your room, change your clothes, pack your trunk, and go--now,
+to-night."
+
+"What do you mean?  That I am to go--and not come back?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But, Gertrude--Gertie--"
+
+"Don't call me that.  Don't DARE to speak to me in that tone.  Go--
+now."
+
+"But, Ger--Miss Dott, I--I--don't you see it was all a mistake?
+I--"
+
+"Stop!  I am trying very hard to keep my temper.  We have had
+scenes enough to-night.  My mother is ill and she must not be
+disturbed again.  If you do not go to your room and pack and leave
+at once, I shall call Mr. Ginn and have you put out, just as you
+are.  I am giving you that opportunity.  You had better avail
+yourself of it.  I mean what I say."
+
+She looked as if she did.  Cousin Percy evidently thought so.  His
+humbleness disappeared.
+
+"So?" he snarled angrily.  "So that's it, eh?  What do you think I
+am?"
+
+Gertrude's eyes flashed.  She bit her lip.  When she spoke it was
+with deliberate distinctness.  Every word was as sharp and cold as
+an icicle.
+
+"Do you wish to know what I think you are?" she asked.  "What I
+thought at the very beginning you were, and what I have been taking
+pains to make sure of ever since I came to this house?  Very well,
+I'll tell you."
+
+She told him, slowly, calmly, and with biting exactness.  His face
+was flushed when she began; when she finished it was white.
+
+"That is what you are," she said.  "I do not merely think so.  I
+have studied you carefully; I have stooped to associate with you in
+order to study you; I have studied you through your friends; I KNOW
+what you are."
+
+His anger and mortification were choking him.
+
+"You--you--" he snarled.  "So that is it, is it?  You have been
+using me as a good thing.  As a--as a--"
+
+"As you have used my father and mother and their simple-minded
+goodness and generosity.  Yes, I have."
+
+"You have been making a fool of me!  And Holway--confound him--"
+
+"Mr. Holway was useful.  He helped.  And he, too, understands,
+now."
+
+"By--by gad--I--I won't go.  I'll--"
+
+Gertrude walked to the rear of the hall.
+
+"Mr. Ginn!" she called, "will you come, please?"
+
+Laban came.  He looked happy and expectant.
+
+"Here I be," he observed eagerly.
+
+"Mr. Ginn," said Gertrude, "this--gentleman--is going to his room
+for a few minutes.  He is preparing to leave us.  If he doesn't
+come down and leave this house in a reasonable time will you kindly
+assist him?  He will, no doubt, send for his trunks to-morrow.  But
+he must go to-night.  He must.  Do you understand, Mr. Ginn?"
+
+Laban grinned.  "I cal'late I do," he said.  "Zuba's been tellin'
+me some.  He'll go."
+
+"Thank you.  Good-night!"
+
+She ascended the stairs.  The first mate looked at his watch.
+
+"Fifteen minutes is enough to pack any trunk," he observed.  "I'll
+give you that much.  Now, them, tumble up.  Lively!"
+
+At the door of her parents' room Gertrude rapped softly.  Captain
+Dan opened it and showed a pallid, agitated face.
+
+"She's mighty sick, Gertie," he declared.  "I wish you'd telephone
+for the doctor."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+The doctor came, stayed for some time and, after administering a
+sleeping draught and ordering absolute quiet for his patient,
+departed, saying that he would come again in the morning.  He did
+so and, before leaving, took Captain Dan and Gertrude into his
+confidence.
+
+"It is a complete collapse," he said gravely.  "Mrs. Dott is worn
+out, physically and mentally.  She must be kept quiet, she must not
+worry about anything, she must remain in bed, and she must see no
+one.  If she does this, if she rests--really rests--we may fight
+off nervous prostration.  If she does not--anything may happen.
+With your permission I shall send a nurse."
+
+The permission was given, of course, and the nurse came.  She was a
+quiet, pleasant, capable person, and Daniel and Gertrude liked her.
+She took charge of the sick room.  Azuba--the common sense,
+adequate, domestic Azuba of old, not the rampant "free woman" of
+recent days--was in charge of the kitchen.  Her husband remained,
+at Daniel's earnest request, but he spent his time below stairs.
+
+"Sartin sure I won't be in the way, Cap'n, be you?" he asked
+earnestly.  "I can go somewheres else just as well as not, to some
+boardin' house or somewheres.  Zuby Jane won't mind; we can see
+each other every day."
+
+"Not a mite of it, Labe," replied Daniel earnestly.  "There's
+plenty of room and you can stay here along with your wife just as
+well as not.  I'd like to have you.  Maybe--" with a suggestive
+wink, "maybe you can kind of--well, kind of keep things runnin'
+smooth--in the galley.  You know what I mean."
+
+Laban grinned.  "Cal'late you won't have no more trouble that way,
+Cap'n," he observed.  "I guess that's over.  Zuby and I understand
+each other better'n we did.  I THOUGHT she was mighty--"
+
+"Mighty what?"  Mr. Ginn had broken off his sentence in the middle.
+
+"Oh, nothin'.  It's all right, Cap'n Dott.  Don't you worry about
+Zuby and me.  We'll boss this end of the craft; you 'tend to the
+rest of it.  Say, that Hungerford swab ain't come back, has he?"
+
+"No.  No, he hasn't.  He's gone for good, it looks like.  Sent for
+his trunk and gone.  That's queer, too.  No, he hasn't come back."
+
+Laban seemed disappointed.  "Well, all right," he said.  "If he
+should come, just send for me.  I'd just as soon talk to him as
+not--rather, if anything."
+
+The captain shook his head in a puzzled way.
+
+"That business of--of him and Zuba was the strangest thing," he
+declared.  "I can't make head nor tail of it, and Gertie won't talk
+about it at all.  He said 'twas a mistake, and of course it must
+have been.  Either that or he'd gone crazy.  No sane man would--"
+
+"What's that?"  It was Mr. Ginn's turn to question, and Daniel's to
+look foolish.  "What's that no sane man would do?" demanded Laban
+sharply.
+
+"Why--why, go away and leave us without sayin' good-by," explained
+the captain, with surprising presence of mind.  "Er--well, so long,
+Laban.  Make yourself at home.  I've got to see how Serena is."
+
+He hurried up the back stairs.  Mr. Ginn, who seemed a trifle
+suspicious, called after him, but the call was unheeded.
+
+At the door of his wife's room--his room no longer--Captain Dan
+rapped softly.  The nurse opened the door.
+
+"How is she?" he whispered.
+
+"She is asleep now," whispered the nurse in reply.  "You must not
+come in."
+
+"I wasn't goin' to.  But--but--has she been askin' for me?"
+
+"Yes.  I told her you were out.  If she wakes and asks for you I
+will call.  You may see her then for a minute or two.  She is
+easier when you are with her--or near by."
+
+This was true.  The one person Serena wished to see most of all was
+her husband.  She asked for Gertrude, of course, but it was Daniel
+for whom she asked continually.  If he were near her she seemed
+almost happy and contented.  It was when he sat beside the bed that
+she ceased tossing upon the pillow and lay quiet, looking at him.
+
+"You are a good man, Daniel," she whispered, on one of these
+occasions.  "A dear, good, unselfish man."
+
+"No, no, I ain't any such thing," protested the captain hastily.
+
+"But you are.  And--and WHAT should I do without you now?"
+
+"Sh-sh!  I'm not much help.  Land knows I wish I was more."
+
+"You ARE the help; all the help I have.  Gertie--Daniel, you will
+keep an eye on Gertie, won't you.  You won't let her do anything
+foolish."
+
+"Who?  Gertie?  She won't do foolish things.  She ain't that kind."
+
+"I know, but she has changed so.  It worries me.  Percy--"
+
+"Now don't you worry about Percy.  He isn't here now."
+
+"Not here?  Where is he?"
+
+"I don't know.  He's gone away--for a spell, anyhow.  Maybe that
+vacation he used to talk about is over.  I guess that's it."
+
+Serena was too weak to ask further questions, even concerning so
+surprising a matter as Cousin Percy's sudden departure.  But she
+did make one further plea.
+
+"Daniel," she begged, "if Annette calls about the Chapter you tell
+her--"
+
+"I've told her.  She understands.  She says it's all right."
+
+"Does she?  I'm so glad.  Oh, Daniel, you'll have to take charge of
+everything now.  I can't, and Gertrude--you must do it, yourself,
+Daniel.  You MUST.  Of Azuba and Gertie and everything.  I rely on
+you.  You WILL, won't you, Daniel?"
+
+"Sure I will.  I'm skipper now, Serena.  You ought to see how the
+hands jump when I give an order."
+
+It was true, too; the hands did "jump" at the captain's orders.  He
+was skipper, for the time being.  His wife's illness, Mr.
+Hungerford's absence, Gertrude's meekness--she was a silent and
+conscience-stricken young lady--all combined to strengthen Daniel's
+resolution, and he was, for the first time in years, the actual
+head of the household.  He took active charge of the bills and
+financial affairs, he commanded Azuba to do this and that, he saw
+the callers who came and he sent them to the rightabout in a hurry.
+
+His statement concerning Mrs. Black was not the literal truth.
+Annette had called, that was true; she had called the very next
+morning after her chief aide was stricken.  But she had not
+declared that everything was "all right"; far from it.
+
+"But can't I see her, Captain Dott?" she begged.  "I MUST see her
+for just a minute."
+
+"Sorry, ma'am, but you can't do it.  Doctor's orders.  She mustn't
+be disturbed."
+
+"But I've got to see her.  I must talk with her."
+
+"I know, but I'm afraid you can't.  You can talk to me, if that
+will do any good."
+
+"It won't.  Of course it won't.  Where is Gertrude?  Let me talk to
+her."
+
+Daniel climbed the stairs to his daughter's room.  He found her
+sitting at her desk; she had been writing "regrets" in answer to
+various invitations.  She turned a careworn face in his direction.
+
+"What is it, Daddy?" she asked.  "Mother is not worse, is she?"
+
+"No, no; she's better, if anything.  But that--er--Annette Black
+has come and, long as she can't see Serena, she wants to talk to
+you."
+
+"About her precious politics, I suppose."
+
+"Your supposin' is as nigh right as anything mortal can be, Gertie.
+That's what she wants."
+
+"I can't see her.  I don't want to see her.  I don't want to hear
+the word politics.  I--"
+
+"That's enough, that's enough.  I'll 'tend to HER.  You stay right
+here."
+
+He descended to the drawing-room, where Annette was fidgeting on
+the edge of a chair, and announced calmly that Gertrude was not at
+home.
+
+The caller's agitation got the better of her temper.
+
+"Nonsense!" she snapped.  "I don't believe it.  How do you know she
+isn't?"
+
+"Because she said so.  Lovely mornin' for a walk, isn't it?"
+
+Mrs. Black rose and stalked to the threshold.  But there she turned
+once more.
+
+"If your wife knew," she cried hysterically, "how I, her best
+friend, was treated in her house, she--she--"
+
+Daniel stepped forward.  "I beg your pardon, Mrs. Black," he said.
+"Maybe I have been pretty plain spoken.  I'm sorry if I've hurt
+your feelin's.  But, you see, we're all upset here.  I'm upset, and
+Gertie's as much so as the rest.  She can't talk to you, or anybody
+else, now.  I'm willin' to try, but you say my talkin' won't do any
+good."
+
+"Of course it won't.  Oh, don't you SEE?  I'm sorry Serena is not
+well, but this is IMPORTANT."
+
+"I know, but so's her health, 'cordin' to my thinkin'."
+
+"If I might see her just a moment.  It is so provoking.  Just at
+this critical time!  Doesn't my--her election mean ANYTHING to you?
+Don't you care about the cause?"
+
+The captain shook his head.  "All I'm carin' for is my wife, just
+now," he said.  "She's all I can think about.  If some of us had
+thought more about her, maybe--"  He stopped, cleared his throat,
+and added:  "I know you'll understand and forgive us, when you
+think it over.  I'll tell her you called.  Good-mornin'."
+
+If he supposed this was the end, he was mistaken.  Annette was not
+so easily whipped or discouraged.  She called again that afternoon,
+and again the next day.  Each morning for a week she came, and,
+between times, other adherents of the Black-Dott party called.
+They all asked concerning the invalid, but their interest plainly
+centered upon her part in the campaign.  Would she be well enough
+to take part in the election, that was the question.  They sent
+flowers and notes.  The flowers reached the lady for whom they were
+intended; the notes did not.  And, after the first week, the calls
+became fewer.  Annette and her followers had, apparently, given up
+hope of aid and advice from their candidate for vice-president.  At
+any rate they ceased to trouble the captain and his daughter.
+
+"It's all the better, Daddy, dear," said Gertrude.  "Mother will
+have a chance to rest and improve now."
+
+And Serena did improve, slowly at first, then with gratifying
+rapidity.  She began to sit up for a portion of each day and to
+sleep through the greater part of each night.  At the end of the
+tenth day the doctor announced that the nurse's services were no
+longer necessary.
+
+"She will be all right now," he said, referring to his patient.
+"But she must continue to have absolute rest and she must not be
+worried or permitted to worry.  If you and she could go somewhere,
+Captain Dott, to some quiet place in the country, and stay there
+for six months, I think it would help her more than anything.  Can
+you do it?"
+
+"_I_ can do it, Doctor," replied Daniel eagerly.  "I'd like to do
+it.  I'll go anywhere, if it will help her."
+
+"Good!  Then I will advise it and you and Miss Dott must back my
+advice.  Will you?"
+
+"I will, and so'll Gertie, I'm sure.  You speak to her, Doctor.
+We'll do the backin' up."
+
+So the doctor made the suggestion.  Serena received it quietly,
+but, when her husband came to do his share of the "backing up," she
+shook her head.
+
+"I'd like to, Daniel," she said.  "I'd like to, but I can't."
+
+"You can't?  Course you can!  Now let's think where we'll go.
+Niagara Falls, hey?  You always wanted to go to the Falls."
+
+"No, Daniel."
+
+"No?  Well, then, how about Washin'ton?  We'll see the President,
+and the monument, and the Smithsonian Museum, and Congress--we'll
+see ALL the curiosities and relics.  We'll go to--"
+
+"Don't, Daniel.  It makes me tired out just to hear about them.  I
+couldn't stand all that."
+
+"Course you couldn't!  What a foolhead I am!  The doctor said you
+needed rest and quiet, and Washin'ton is about as quiet as the
+Ostable Cattle Show.  Well, what do you say to the White
+Mountains?"
+
+"In winter?  No, Daniel, if I went anywhere I should like to go to--
+to--"
+
+"Where, Serena?  Just name it and I'll buy the tickets."
+
+"Daniel, I'd rather go to Trumet than anywhere else."
+
+Captain Dan could scarcely believe it.
+
+"WHAT!" he cried.  "Trumet?  You want to go to Trumet, Serena?
+YOU?"
+
+"Yes.  I've been wanting to go for some time.  I never told you; I
+wouldn't even admit it to myself; but I've thought about it a great
+deal.  I was getting so tired, so sick of all the going about and
+the dressing up and the talking, talking all the time.  I longed to
+be somewhere where there was nothing going on and where you and I
+could be together as we used to be.  And, oh, Daniel--"
+
+"Yes, Serena?  Yes?"
+
+"Oh, Daniel, since I've been really sick, since I've been getting
+better and could think at all, I've been thinking more and more
+about our old house at Trumet, and how nice and comfortable we were
+there, and what pleasant evenings you and I used to have together.
+It was home, Daniel, really and truly home, and this place never
+has been, has it?"
+
+"You bet it hasn't!  It's been--well, never mind, but it wasn't
+home.  Lordy, but I'm glad to hear you talk this way, Serena!  _I_
+haven't thought anything else since we first landed, but I never
+imagined you did."
+
+"I didn't, at first.  It has been only lately since I began to feel
+so tired and my head troubled me so.  Daniel, I'm not sure that our
+coming here wasn't a mistake."
+
+The captain was perfectly sure.  He sprang to his feet.
+
+"That's all right, Serena," he cried.  "If it was a mistake it's
+one that can be straightened out in two shakes of slack jib sheet.
+You stay here and rest easy.  I'll be back in a few minutes."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"I'm going to make arrangements for our trip to Trumet.  'Twon't
+take me long."
+
+"Daniel, stop!  Sit down.  I didn't say I was going.  I said I
+should like to go."
+
+"That's the same thing.  Now, Serena, I know what's frettin' you.
+You're thinkin' what'll become of this house and all the fine
+things in it.  They'll be all right.  We could rent this house in
+no time, I know it.  I ain't sure but what we could sell it if we
+wanted to.  That real estate fellow, the one Barney--B. Phelps, I
+mean--introduced me to down street one time, met me t'other day and
+told me if I ever thought of sellin' this place to let him know.
+Said he had a customer, or thought he had, that knew the house well
+and always liked it.  He believed that feller would buy, if the
+price was right.  Course I didn't pay much attention then; I judged
+you wouldn't think of sellin', but--"
+
+"Stop! stop, Daniel!  You are so excited it makes me nervous again
+to hear you.  I wasn't thinking of the house at all.  The way I
+feel now I had as soon sell it as not.  But that isn't it.  I can't
+leave Scarford.  I can't!"
+
+Daniel's enthusiasm faded.  There was determination in his wife's
+tone.  He sat down again.
+
+"Oh!" he observed wistfully, "you can't?  You're sure you can't,
+Serena?  You know what the doctor said.  Why can't you go?"
+
+"Because I can't.  It is impossible.  I couldn't leave the Chapter.
+Don't you SEE, Daniel?  I am a candidate for vice-president.  My
+friends--the truest, most loyal friends a woman ever had--are
+depending upon me.  I couldn't desert them.  I told you that
+before.  Would they desert me?"
+
+"I suppose likely they wouldn't," reluctantly.
+
+"You know they wouldn't.  No personal considerations, no selfish
+reasons, NOTHING could make them do it.  But I've said this all
+before, Daniel.  You must see why I have to stay.  I'd like to go,
+I'd love to, but I can't.  Let's talk of something else."
+
+Captain Dan sighed.  "I presume likely you're right, Serena," he
+admitted.  "It would seem like a mean trick, the way you put it.
+But after the election?  You said, when we was talkin' before, that
+after you was elected maybe you would go with Gertie and me
+somewhere.  And we'll go to Trumet, that's where we'll go."
+
+"All right, Daniel, dear, we'll see.  And don't worry about me.  I
+am almost well again and I am going to be completely well.  Now
+won't you ask Gertie to come in and talk with me?  I am beginning
+to think about the election.  Gertrude must go.  We need her vote
+and her influence.  Has she been helping Annette?  I hope she has.
+Send her to me, Daniel, please."
+
+So the captain, his hopes somewhat dashed, but finding comfort in
+his wife's new longing to visit the one spot on earth which spelled
+home to him, left the room to carry Serena's message to their
+daughter.
+
+He was busy at the desk in the library when, several hours later,
+Gertrude entered.  She was wearing her hat and coat and, coming
+into the library, stood beside him.  He looked up.  His expression
+surprised and alarmed her.
+
+"Why, what's the matter, Daddy?" she asked anxiously.  "You look as
+if something dreadful had happened.  What is it?"
+
+Her father put down his pen.  A sheet of paper, covered with
+figures, was on the desk before him; so, also, was the family
+checkbook which had been, until the illness of Mrs. Dott, in that
+lady's sole charge.
+
+"Matter?" he repeated.  "Matter?  Humph!  Do I look as if somethin'
+was the matter?  Where have you been?"
+
+"I have been out.  Mother was so anxious about the election that I
+promised her I would see Mrs. Black and some of the others this
+very day.  I have been calling on them."
+
+"Have, hey?  Well, what's the prospect?  The cause of right and
+Black, and justice and Dott is goin' to prevail, I presume likely,
+isn't it?"
+
+"I don't know.  I couldn't find out anything.  Mrs. Black was not
+in, at least that is what the maid said; but I am almost sure she
+was in.  I think I saw her peeping between the curtains as I went
+down the steps."
+
+"That so?  Perhaps she was dosin' you with the same medicine I
+handed her when she called that first day after Serena was taken
+down."
+
+"I thought of that.  But I called on three other leaders of
+Mother's party--"
+
+"Yours and your mother's, you mean?"
+
+"Yes, of course.  I called on three of our leaders.  Two of them
+were in and I talked with them.  I could learn nothing from either
+about the election.  They would not discuss it, except to say that
+everything would be all right.  They behaved so oddly and were so
+embarrassed.  It was perfectly obvious that they wanted to get rid
+of me.  I can't understand it."
+
+"There's lots of things we can't understand in this world.  Don't
+fret your mother about it."
+
+"I shan't, of course.  But what is troubling you, Daddy?
+Something, I know."
+
+"Look that way, do I?  My looks don't belie me, then.  See here,
+Gertie, I'm stumped.  I've been goin' over back bills and the
+bankbook and the checkbook and--and--well, I'm on my beam ends,
+that's where I am."
+
+"Why?  Don't the books balance?"
+
+"They balance all right.  That's what's kicked me over.  If they're
+true--course they can't be, but IF they are--we've spent close to
+five thousand dollars since we made this town."
+
+"Indeed!  Well?"
+
+"WELL!  Five thousand dollars!  I'm sayin' five THOUSAND; do you
+understand?"
+
+"I understand.  I'm not surprised.  Living as we do, and moving in
+the--in the best society as we have, the expense is large,
+naturally.  You must expect that."
+
+"Expect!  Gertie Baker Dott, STOP talkin' that way!  Our income,
+not countin' what the store at Trumet is fetchin' in, ain't over
+six thousand at the outside.  Six thousand a YEAR, that is.  And
+we've got rid of five thousand in a few months!  We've got a
+thousand or so to live the rest of this year on.  One thousand--"
+
+"Hush, Daddy!  Don't shout and wave your arms.  We shall have to
+use a part of the principal, I presume."
+
+"Part of the prin--Oh, my soul and body!  Use part of it this year,
+and some more next year, and some more the next, and--and--Do you
+know where we'll be ten year from now?  In the poorhouse, that's
+where."
+
+"Oh, I hope not as bad as that.  And, besides, think what a
+beautiful time we shall have during those ten years.  Just as
+beautiful as we have had so far; better, no doubt, for we have
+really only begun."
+
+"Ger-tie DOTT!"
+
+"Just think of it, Daddy.  We have only begun."
+
+"I--I won't think of it!  I'll stop it, that's what I'll do!"
+
+Gertrude smilingly shook her head.
+
+"Oh, no, you won't, Daddy," she said.  "You never stop anything."
+
+She turned to go.  Captain Dan sat, speechless in his chair,
+staring at the bills, the figures, the checkbook, and the prospect
+of the poorhouse.  Then he felt her hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"Never mind, Daddy, dear," she said softly.  "I wouldn't worry any
+more, if I were you.  I think--I am beginning to hope that YOUR
+worries are almost over."
+
+She kissed him and hurried out before he could collect his senses
+sufficiently to ask what she meant.  He did ask her at their next
+meeting, but she only smiled and would not tell him.
+
+The next morning Serena's first remark was concerning the election,
+which was to take place that evening.  All that day she spoke of
+little else, and when the evening came she insisted upon Gertrude's
+leaving for the hall immediately after dinner.  Laban went with her
+as escort, Mr. Hungerford's former enviable duty, and one which
+that gentleman had appeared to enjoy more than did its present
+occupant, who grumbled at missing his "after supper" smoke.  Laban
+returned early.  Gertrude did not.
+
+It was after ten when the young lady appeared.  She was very grave
+when her father met her in the hall.
+
+"How is Mother?" she asked.  "Asleep, I hope."
+
+Daniel nodded.  "Yes," he said, "she's asleep, for a wonder.  She
+vowed and declared she was goin' to stay awake until you came, but
+I read out loud to her and she dropped off while I was doin' it."
+
+"Then don't wake her, for the world.  Tell her I have returned,
+that I am tired and have gone to bed, and will give her the news in
+the morning."
+
+"That won't do.  She'll want to know to-night.  What is the news?
+Can't you leave some message?  She won't rest if you don't."
+
+Gertrude pondered.  "Tell her," she began slowly, "tell her Mrs.
+Black is elected.  That is all to-night.  Perhaps she will take--
+other things for granted."
+
+But when morning, very early morning, came, Captain Dan summoned
+his daughter from her room.
+
+"She's wide awake, Gertie," he said, "and she wants to know it all.
+You'd better come and tell her."
+
+But Gertrude had been thinking.  "I think you had better tell her
+first, Daddy," she said.  "I think it may be wiser for you to tell
+her.  Things were said and done at that election which she must not
+know.  They were so mean, so contemptible that she ought never to
+know.  If I am not there she cannot ask about them.  I will tell
+you the result and how it came about and you can tell her.  Perhaps
+that will be sufficient.  I hope it may be.  Listen, Daddy."
+
+Daniel listened.  "My soul and body!" he exclaimed, when the tale
+was ended.  "My Godfreys! and those were the folks she figgered
+were her friends!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And Annette Black--"
+
+"She was the moving spirit in the whole of it, I'm certain."
+
+"My Godfreys!  And she--and she--well, I guess maybe Serena'll be
+willin' to go back to Trumet NOW.  She wanted to go before; 'twas
+only loyalty to that gang that kept her from goin'.  She's sick of
+society, and sick of politics, and sick of Scarford.  She said
+she'd give anything to go back to the old house and be comfortable
+same as we used to be; she said--"
+
+"Daddy!"  Gertrude seized his arm.  She was strangely excited.
+"Did she--did Mother really say that?" she demanded eagerly.
+
+"Sure, she said it!  Twice she told me so."
+
+"And she meant it?"
+
+"She acted as if she did.  Course we both realized 'twould be hard
+for you, Gertie, but--"
+
+"Go!  Go and tell her about the election.  Quick! quick!"  She
+fairly pushed him from her.  "Don't wait," she urged, "go."
+
+Daniel was on his way when she called him back.
+
+"I almost forgot, Daddy, dear," she said repentantly.  "I was so
+gl--I mean--well, never mind.  What I want to say is that if you
+think the news will be too great a shock, if you think she is not
+strong enough to hear it now--"
+
+Her father interrupted.  "She's stronger than I've seen her for a
+fortnight," he declared.  "And one thing's sure, she won't rest
+till she does hear it.  I shall tell her, and get it over."
+
+"Then be as gentle as you can, won't you?"
+
+"I'll try.  But, Gertie, what did you mean by sayin' you was so--so
+glad?  That was what you was goin' to say, wasn't you?  I don't see
+as there's much to be glad about."
+
+"Don't you?  Well, perhaps. . . .  Run along, Daddy, run along."
+
+She closed the door of her room.  Daniel, much perplexed, departed
+on his unpleasant errand.
+
+His wife was eagerly awaiting him.
+
+"Where's Gertie?" she demanded.  "Isn't she coming?"
+
+"She'll come by and by, Serena.  She isn't quite dressed yet."
+
+"What difference does that make?  Why doesn't she come, herself?
+Didn't you tell her I was dying to hear about the election?  She
+must know I am."
+
+"She does; she knows that, Serena.  But she thought--she thought
+I'd better tell you first, myself."
+
+Serena leaned forward to look at him.  His expression alarmed her.
+
+"Why don't you tell, then?" she asked.  "Is it--oh, Daniel, it
+isn't bad news, is it?"
+
+"It ain't very good, Serena."
+
+"You don't mean--why, you said that Annette was elected; you said
+so last night."
+
+"Yes--yes, she was elected, Serena; but--"
+
+"But--but _I_ wasn't.  Is that what you mean, Daniel?"
+
+"Well now, Serena--"
+
+"I wasn't.  Yes, it is true, I can see it in your face.  I was
+defeated.  Oh--oh, Daniel!"
+
+Captain Dan put his arm about her.
+
+"There! there! Serena," he said chokingly, "don't cry, don't.
+Don't feel too bad about it.  Politics is politics, inside Chapters
+and out, I guess.  I'm as much disappointed as you are, for your
+sake, but--but don't care too much, will you?  Don't make yourself
+sick again.  Don't cry no more than you can help."
+
+Serena raised her head from his shoulder.
+
+"I'm not crying," she said.  "Really I'm not, Daniel.  It is a
+relief to me, in a way."
+
+"A RELIEF?"
+
+"Yes.  If it had happened a month ago I should have felt it
+terribly.  I was crazy for office then.  But lately I have dreaded
+it so.  If I were vice-president I should have so much care, so
+much responsibility.  Now, I shan't.  The honor would have been
+great, I appreciate that.  But, for the rest of it, I don't really
+care."
+
+"Don't CARE!  My soul and body!"
+
+"No, I don't.  And now," bravely, "tell me all about it.  I don't
+quite see how Annette could win if I did not; but Miss Canby is
+popular, she has a great many friends.  I hope," wistfully, "I hope
+I got a good vote.  Did I, Daniel?"
+
+Daniel's indignation burst forth.
+
+"You didn't get any votes, Serena," he cried angrily.
+
+"What?  What?  No votes?  Why--"
+
+"Not a blessed one.  They put up a low-down political trick on you,
+Serena.  They left you out to save themselves.  They took advantage
+of your bein' sick to--to--Here, I'll tell you just what they did."
+
+What they had done was this:  Mrs. Lake and Mrs. Black, heads of
+the opposing factions, each realizing how close the vote was likely
+to be, had, with their lieutenants--Mrs. Dott excepted--gotten
+together five days before the election and arranged a compromise, a
+trade.  By this arrangement, Annette was to receive the Lake
+party's support for president; Miss Canby was to be given the Black
+support for vice-president; and the united support of both factions
+was to be behind Mrs. Lake in her struggle for office in the
+National body.  This arrangement was carried through.  Serena, not
+being on hand to protect her own interest, had been sacrificed, her
+name had not even been brought before the members to be voted upon.
+
+Captain Dan told of this precious scheme, just as it had been told
+him by his daughter.  At first his wife interrupted with
+exclamations and questions; then she listened in silence.
+
+"That's what they did," cried the captain angrily.  "Chucked you
+into the scrap heap to save themselves.  And you sick abed!  This
+was the gang you worked yourself pretty nigh to death for.  These
+were the FRIENDS you thought you had.  And Annette Black was the
+worst of all.  'Twas her idea in the first place.  Why, Serena--"
+
+But Serena could hear no more.  She threw her arms about her
+husband's neck and the tears, which she had so bravely repressed at
+the tidings of her own disappointment, burst forth.
+
+"Oh--oh, Daniel," she sobbed, "take me away from here.  I hate this
+place; I hate Scarford and all the dreadful people in it!  Take me
+to Trumet, Daniel.  Take me home!  Take me home!"
+
+Half an hour later Captain Dan shouted his daughter's name over the
+balusters.
+
+"Gertie!" he called; "Gertie! come up here, will you?"
+
+Gertrude came.  She entered the room hastily.  She had feared to
+find her mother prostrate, suffering from a new attack of "nerves."
+She was prepared to obey her father's order to 'phone for the
+doctor.
+
+But Serena did not, apparently, need a doctor.  She was not
+prostrate, and, although she was nervous, it was rather the
+nervousness of expectancy, coupled with determination.
+
+"Gertie," said the captain, "I've got some news for you.  Your
+mother and I have made up our minds to go back to Trumet, and we
+want you to go along with us."
+
+The young lady did not answer at once.  She looked first at Serena
+and then at Daniel.  The troubled expression left her face and was
+succeeded by another, an odd one.  When she spoke it was in a tone
+of great surprise.
+
+"To Trumet?" she repeated.  "Go back to Trumet?  Not to live
+there?"
+
+Captain Dan hesitated, but his wife did not.
+
+"Yes," she said decidedly, "to live.  For the present, anyhow.  At
+least we shan't live here any longer."
+
+"Not live here?  Not live in Scarford, Mother!  Why, what do you
+mean?"
+
+Her father answered.  "She means what she says, I presume likely,"
+he observed impatiently.  "Think she's talkin' for the fun of it?
+This ain't April Fool Day."
+
+"But she can't mean it.  She can't!  Give up the Chapter, and all
+our friends--"
+
+"Friends!  They're a healthy lot of friends, they are!"
+
+"Hush, Daddy; I'm not talking to you.  Do you realize what you are
+saying, Mother?  Give up the Chapter, and all your ambitions there?
+Give up Mrs. Black and Mrs. Lake and Miss Canby--"
+
+"And that twist and squirm, antique Greece disgrace of a Dusante
+woman--don't forget her.  Gertie, you stop now.  Your ma knows--"
+
+"Daddy, be still.  Be still, I say!  Mother, are you willing to
+give them up?  And all our society!  You say yourself--I've heard
+you often--that there is no society in Trumet.  Give up our bridge
+lessons, and our dancing, and our teas, and--"
+
+"For the land sakes!  What is this; a catalogue you're givin' us?
+Stop it!  Serena, you tell her to stop."
+
+But Gertrude would not stop.  She ignored her father utterly.
+
+"Think what it would mean," she protested.  "Think of your social
+position, Mother, the position we have worked so hard to attain."
+
+Serena shook her head.  "I don't care," she said firmly.  "Our
+social position was good enough in Trumet."
+
+"WHAT!  Why, Mother! how often I have heard you say--"
+
+"Never mind what I said.  I have said a lot of foolish things, and
+done a lot, too.  But I'm through.  I'm sick and disgusted with it
+all.  I'm going to be simple and comfortable and happy--yes, happy.
+Oh, Gertie, DON'T talk to me about society!  There isn't a real,
+sincere person in it, not in the set we have been in.  I hate
+Scarford and I hate society."
+
+"Mother! how can you!  And opportunity and advancement--"
+
+"I hate them, too."
+
+Gertrude gasped.  "Why, Mother!" she exclaimed.  "And it was you
+who first showed me the way.  Who showed me how common and dull and
+unambitious I had been all my life?  Think what leaving here would
+mean to me.  What would Miss Dusante think?  I had almost arranged
+to take dancing lessons of her.  Think of Mr. Holway.  Is there a
+young man like him in Trumet?  Think of Cousin Percy!"
+
+That was quite enough.  Serena rose, her eyes flashing.
+
+"Stop!" she cried.  "Stop this minute!  Gertrude Dott, your father
+and I are going back to Trumet and you are going with us."
+
+"Oh, no, I'm not.  Why, Cousin Percy--"
+
+"Don't you dare mention his name to me."
+
+"Why not?  He is very gentlemanly and very aristocratic.  You told
+me that when I first came, Mother.  You were always talking about
+him and praising him then.  And I'm sure he moves in the highest
+circles; he says he does, himself."
+
+"He is a good-for-nothing loafer.  He has sponged upon your
+father--"
+
+"You have often spoken of him as an honor to the family."
+
+"A good-for-nothing, dissipated, fast--"
+
+"Oh, a little dissipation is expected in society, isn't it?"
+
+"I should think you would be ashamed!"
+
+"Why?  I haven't done a thing that you haven't done, Mother.  That
+is, nothing which your friends don't do every day.  They are ever
+so much more advanced than I am.  I have only begun.  No, indeed, I
+am not going back to plain, common, everyday old Trumet.  I shall
+stay here and progress.  You and your friends have shown me what is
+expected of a girl in my position and I shall take advantage of my
+opportunities.  Why, Mrs. Black says that, if I play my cards well,
+I may catch a millionaire, perhaps a foreign nobleman.  How would
+you like to be mother-in-law to a--well, to a count, for instance?"
+
+Mrs. Dott did not answer this question.  Instead she turned to her
+husband.
+
+"Daniel," she cried, "are you going to stand this?  Are you that
+girl's father, or aren't you?  Are you going to make her mind, or
+not?"
+
+Daniel would have spoken, but his daughter got ahead of him.
+
+"Oh, Father doesn't count," she observed lightly.  "No one minds
+what he says.  He didn't want to move to Scarford at all.  No one
+minds him."
+
+Serena stamped her foot.  "Daniel Dott," she cried, "do you hear
+that?  I call upon you, as the head of this family, to tell that
+girl what she's got to do, and make her do it."
+
+Captain Dan stepped forward.  Gertrude merely laughed.  That laugh
+settled the question.
+
+"Gertie," ordered the captain, his voice, the old quarter-deck
+voice which had been law aboard the Bluebird, "you march your boots
+to your room and pack up.  We're goin' to Trumet and you're goin'
+along with us.  March! or, by the everlastin', I'll carry you there
+and lock you in!  You speak another word and I'll do it, anyway.
+Serena, I'll 'tend to her.  You're tired out; lie down and rest."
+
+"But, Daniel--"
+
+"Lie down and rest.  I'm runnin' this craft.  Well," wheeling upon
+his daughter, "are you goin'?  Or shall I carry you?"
+
+Gertrude looked at him and then at her mother.  Her lips twitched.
+
+"I'll go, Daddy," she said meekly, and went.
+
+When Captain Dan descended to the lower floor he found Mr. Ginn in
+the library.
+
+"Hello!" hailed the latter, "you look kind of set-up and sassy,
+seems to me.  YOU ain't had nothin' to drink, have you?"
+
+"Drink?  What do you mean by that?  Has anybody around here had
+anything to drink?"
+
+"I don't know.  Some of 'em act as if they had.  When I came into
+the kitchen a spell ago I found my wife and Gertie dancin' like a
+couple of loons."
+
+"Dancin'?"
+
+"Yes, sir, holdin' hands and hoppin' around like sand fleas in a
+clam bake.  I asked 'em what set 'em goin' and they wouldn't tell
+me.  I couldn't think of anything but liquor that would start Zuby
+Jane dancin'.  I don't know's that would--I never tried it on her--
+but 'twas the only likely guess I could make."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Captain Dan was seated in his old chair, at his old desk, behind
+the counter of the Metropolitan Store.  His pipe, the worn, charred
+briar that he had left in the drawer of that very desk when he
+started for the railway station and Scarford, was in his mouth.
+Over the counter, beyond the showcases and the tables with their
+piles of oilskins, mittens, sou'westers, and sweaters, through the
+panes of the big front windows, he could see the road, the main
+street of Trumet.  The road was muddy, and the mud had frozen.
+Beyond the road, between the shops and houses on the opposite side,
+he saw the bare brown hills, the pond where the city people found
+waterlilies in the summer--the pond was now a glare of ice--the
+sand dunes, the beach, the closed and shuttered hotel and cottages,
+and, beyond these, the cold gray and white of the wintry sea
+rolling beneath a gloomy sky.  To the average person the view would
+have been desolation itself.  To Captain Dan it was a section of
+Paradise.  It was the picture which had been in his mind for
+months.  And here it was in reality, unchanged, unspoiled, a part
+of home, his home.  And he, at last, was at home again.
+
+They had been in Trumet a week, the captain and Serena and
+Gertrude.  Azuba had been there two days longer, having been sent
+on ahead of the family to open the house and get it ready.  Laban
+remained behind as caretaker of the Scarford mansion.  His term of
+service in that capacity was not likely to be a long one, for the
+real estate dealer was in active negotiation with his client, and
+the dealer's latest report stated that the said client was
+considering hiring the house, furnished, for a few months and, in
+the event of his liking it as well as he expected, would then, in
+all probability, buy.
+
+Laban's remaining as caretaker was his own suggestion.
+
+"Me and the old gal--Zuby Jane, I mean--have talked it over," he
+explained, "and it seems like the best thing to do.  You've got to
+have somebody here, Cap'n Dott, you've got to pay somebody, and it
+might as well be me.  I'm out of a job just now, anyway.  As for me
+and my wife bein' separated--well, we're different from most
+married folks that way; it seems the natural thing for us to BE
+separated.  We're used to it, as you might say.  I don't know as
+we'd get along so well together if we wasn't separated.  There's
+nothin' like separation to keep husband and wife happy along with
+one another.  I've been with Zuby for most three weeks steady now;
+that's the longest stretch we've had in a good many years.  We
+ain't quarreled once, neither."
+
+He seemed to consider the fact remarkable.  Captain Dott grinned.
+
+"I suppose that shuttin' her up in the dish closet wasn't what
+you'd call a quarrel, hey?" he observed.
+
+Mr. Ginn was momentarily embarrassed.
+
+"Oh, that!" he exclaimed.  "Humph!  I forgot that, for the minute.
+But that wasn't a quarrel, rightly speakin'.  'Twas just a little
+difference of opinion on account of my not understandin' her reason
+for bein' so sot on havin' her own way.  Soon's I understood 'twas
+all right.  And you see yourself how peaceable she's been ever
+since."
+
+So, after consultation with Azuba, the arrangement was perfected.
+Laban was to receive ten dollars a week, from which sum he was to
+provide his own meals.  He was to sleep in the house, but the meals
+were to be obtained elsewhere.  Mrs. Dott would not consider his
+cooking in her kitchen.
+
+Serena bore the fatigue of the journey well and the sight of her
+old home, with the table set for supper, plants in the dining-room
+windows, and all the little familiar touches which Azuba's
+thoughtfulness had supplied, served to bring her the contentment
+and happiness she had been longing for.  Each day she gained in
+health and strength, and the rest and freedom from care, together
+with the early hours--they retired at nine-thirty each night--were
+doing wonders for her.  Her husband was delighted at the
+improvement.  He was delighted with everything, the familiar
+scenes, the smell of the salt marshes, and of the sea, the clear,
+cold air, the meeting with friends and acquaintances, the freedom
+from society--he had not even unpacked his dress suit, vowing to
+Gertrude that it might stay buried till Judgment, he wouldn't
+resurrect it--all these things delighted his soul.  And now, on the
+Saturday morning at the end of his first week at home, as he sat in
+his arm chair behind the counter of the Metropolitan Store, looking
+at the view through the windows and at the store itself, he was a
+happy man.  There was one flaw in his happiness, but that he had
+forgotten for the moment.
+
+He glanced about him, took a long pull at his pipe, and said aloud:
+"Well, if I didn't know 'twas the same place, I wouldn't have known
+it.  I never saw such a change in my life."
+
+Nathaniel Bangs, standing by the front window, turned.
+
+"I don't see much difference," he said.  "The old town looks about
+the same to me."
+
+The captain smilingly shook his head.
+
+"'Tain't the town," he observed.  "It's this store.  Nate, you're a
+wonder, that's what you are, a wonder."
+
+For, if the view had not changed, if it was the same upon which
+Daniel Dott had looked for many winters, through the windows of
+that very store, the store itself had changed materially.  Mr.
+Bangs had wrought the change and it was distinctly a change for the
+better.  The stock, and there was a surprising deal of it, was new
+and attractively displayed.  The contents of the showcases were
+varied and up-to-date.  Neatly lettered placards calling attention
+to special bargains hung in places where they were most likely to
+be seen.  There was a spruce, swept, and garnished look to the
+establishment; as Azuba said when she first saw it after her
+return, it looked as if it had had a shave and a hair cut.  In
+other words, the Metropolitan Store appeared wide awake and
+prosperous, as if it was making money--which it was.
+
+It was not making a great deal, of course, as yet.  This was the
+dullest season of the year.  But the Christmas trade had been good
+and, thanks to Nathaniel's enterprise and effort, the scallop
+fishermen, the quahaug rakers, and the members of the life-saving
+crews were once more buying their outfits at the Metropolitan Store
+instead of patronizing Mr. J. Cohen and The Emporium.  Mr. Bangs
+was already selecting his summer stock; and his plans for the
+disposal of that stock were definite and business-like.
+
+"If you don't say no, Cap'n Dott," he had explained, "I'm going to
+try putting on a horse and wagon this summer.  There's no reason
+why we shouldn't get the cottage trade down at the Neck, and all
+along shore.  Jim Bartlett, Sam's older brother, would like the job
+driving that wagon.  He's smart as a whip, Jim is, and he's willing
+to work on commission.  Let him start out twice a week with a load
+of hats and oilskins and belts and children's shovels and pails--
+all the sort of stuff the boarders and cottage folks buy and that
+they'd buy more of if it was brought right to their doors--and
+he'll catch a heap of trade that goes to Bayport or Wellmouth or
+The Emporium now.  What he don't carry he can take orders for and
+deliver next trip.  If you don't say no, Cap'n Dott, I'm going to
+try it.  And I'll bet a month's wages it's a go."
+
+Captain Dan had not said no.  On the contrary he expressed
+enthusiastic approval of his manager's plans and enterprise.  Also,
+he had been thinking of some adequate reward, some means of proving
+his gratitude real.
+
+"You're a wonder, Nate," repeated Daniel.  "I don't know how to get
+even with you, but I've got an idea.  I've talked it over with
+Serena already and she's for it.  I want to ask Gertie's opinion
+and if she says yes, and she will, I'm almost sartin, I'll tell you
+what it is."
+
+"All right, Cap'n.  Don't you worry yourself trying to 'get even,'
+as you call it, with me.  I've enjoyed being in charge here.  I
+always said there was money in a store in Trumet, if it was run as
+it should be.  One year more and I can show you a few things, I'll
+bet."
+
+"You've shown 'em already.  Land of love!  I should say you had."
+
+"Give me time and I'll show you more.  We have only begun. . . .
+Why, what's the matter?  What made you look that way?"
+
+"Oh, nothin', nothin'.  Only your sayin' we'd only begun reminded
+me of--of other things.  I don't suppose I'll ever hear 'only
+begun' without shiverin'.  Humph! there's some kind of beginnin's I
+hope I'll never hear of again.  Gertie been in this mornin', has
+she?  She isn't in the house."
+
+"No, I saw her go down street a little while ago.  Gone for her
+morning walk, perhaps.  How is Mrs. Dott to-day?"
+
+"Fine.  Tip top.  I ain't seen her so satisfied with life for two
+months or more.  She's gettin' better every minute."
+
+"That's good.  Contented to be back in Trumet, is she?"
+
+"Seems to be.  _I_ am; you can bet high on that."
+
+"And--er--Gertie, is she contented, too?"
+
+This question touched directly the one uncertainty, the one
+uncomfortable doubt in the captain's mind.  He looked keenly at the
+questioner.
+
+"What makes you ask that?" he demanded.
+
+"Oh, nothing much.  She seems changed, that's all.  She used to be
+so full of spirits, and so bright and lively.  Now she is quiet and
+doesn't talk much.  Looks thinner, too, and as if something was
+troubling her.  Perhaps it is my imagination.  When's John Doane
+coming down?  'Most time for him to be spending a Sunday with you,
+ain't it?  Engaged folks don't usually stay apart more than a week,
+especially when the one is as near the other as Boston is to
+Trumet."
+
+Daniel knocked the ashes from his pipe into the wastebasket.
+
+"Oh, oh, John'll be along pretty soon, I shouldn't wonder," he said
+hastily.  "He--he's pretty busy these days, I suppose."
+
+"Nice thing his bein' taken into the firm, after Mr. Griffin died,
+wasn't it.  Well, he's a pretty smart fellow, John is, and he
+deserves to get ahead.  Did he tell you the particulars about it?"
+
+"No.  No, not all of 'em.  Is that a customer in the other room?"
+
+Mr. Bangs hurried away to attend to the customer.  The captain
+seized the opportunity to make a timely exit.  He went into the
+house, remained a while with his wife, and then returned.
+Nathaniel had gone on an order-taking trip and Sam Bartlett, the
+boy, was in charge.  Just as Daniel entered the store from the side
+door Gertrude came in at the front.
+
+"Hello, Daddy," she said.  "All alone?"
+
+"Not quite, but I'd just as soon be.  Sam, go into the other room;
+I'll hail you if I need you.  Gertie, come here.  I want to have a
+talk with you."
+
+Gertrude came.  She took her old position, perching upon the arm of
+her father's chair, with her own arm about his neck.
+
+"Gertie," began the captain, "what would you think of my makin'
+Nate Bangs a partner in this concern?"
+
+Gertrude uttered an exclamation of delight.
+
+"Splendid!" she cried.  "Just what I wanted you to do.  I thought
+of it, but I said nothing because I wanted you to say it first.  It
+will be just the right thing."
+
+"Ye-es, so it seemed to me.  All that's good here in this store is
+due to Nathaniel.  He's made a real, live business out of a remains
+that was about ready for the undertaker.  I ought to give him the
+whole craft, but--but I hate to."
+
+"You could.  You could sell out to him and still have sufficient
+income to live upon in comfort here in Trumet.  You might sell out,
+retire, and be a gentleman of leisure, one of the town's rich men.
+You could do that perfectly well."
+
+Daniel grunted in disgust.
+
+"Don't talk that way," he repeated.  "I've had enough gentleman of
+leisure foolishness to last me through.  What do you think I am; a
+second-hand copy of Cousin Percy, without the gilt edges?  _I_
+might be kissin' Zuba by mistake if I did that."
+
+The story of that eventful evening and the "mistake" had been told
+him by his daughter since the return home.  Gertrude smiled.
+
+"I guess not," she declared.  "You are not in the habit of 'dining
+out'--in Trumet, at any rate.  Have you told Mother?"
+
+"Yes, I told her.  I don't think she was much surprised.  She'd
+guessed as much before, so I gathered from what she said."
+
+"No doubt; the explanation was obvious enough.  Well, Daddy, I did
+not expect you would be contented to retire and do nothing.  That
+is not your conception of happiness.  But, if you do take Mr. Bangs
+into partnership, let him manage the entire business.  You can be
+in the store as much as you wish, and be interested in it, so long
+as you don't interfere.  And you and Mother can be together and
+take little trips together once in a while.  You mustn't stay in
+Trumet ALL the time; if you do you will grow discontented again."
+
+"No, no, I shan't.  Serena may, perhaps, but I shan't."
+
+"Yes, you will.  You both have seen a little of outside life now,
+and it isn't all bad, though you may think so just at this time.
+You mustn't settle down and grow narrow like some of the people
+here in Trumet--Abigail Mayo, for instance."
+
+"Humph!  I'd have to swallow a self-windin' talkin' machine before
+I could get to be like Abigail Mayo.  But you may be right, Gertie;
+perhaps you are.  See here, though, how about you, yourself?
+You've seen a heap more of what you call outside life than your ma
+and I have.  How are YOU goin' to keep contented here in Trumet?"
+
+"Oh, I shall be contented.  Don't worry about me."
+
+"But I do worry, and your mother is beginnin' to worry, too.
+There's somethin' troublin' you; both of us see that plain enough.
+See here, Gertie, you ain't--you ain't feelin' bad about--about
+leavin' that Cousin Percy, are you?"
+
+The young lady's cheeks reddened, but with indignation, not
+embarrassment.
+
+"DADDY!" she protested sharply.  "Daddy, how can you!  Cousin
+Percy!"
+
+"Well, you know--"
+
+"I hate him.  I've told you so.  Or I should, if he was worth
+hating; as it is I despise him thoroughly."
+
+"That's good!  That's one load off my mind.  But, you see, Gertie--
+well, when your mother and I first told you we'd made up our minds
+to come back here, you--you stood up for him, and said he was
+aristocratic and--and I don't know what all.  That's what you said;
+and 'twas after the Zuba business, too."
+
+Gertrude regarded him wonderingly.  "Said!" she repeated.  "I said
+and did all sorts of things.  Daddy--Daddy, DEAR, is it possible
+you don't understand yet that it was all make-believe?"
+
+"All make-believe?  What; your likin' Cousin Percy?"
+
+"Yes, that and Mr. Holway and everything else--the whole of it.
+Haven't you guessed it yet?  It was all a sham; don't you see?
+When I came back from college and found out exactly how things were
+going, I realized at once that something must be done.  You were
+miserable and neglected, and Mother was under the influence of Mrs.
+Black and that empty-headed, ridiculous Chapter and would-be
+society crowd of hers.  I tried at first to reason with her, but
+that was useless.  She was too far gone for reason.  So I thought
+and thought until I had a plan.  I believed if I could show her, by
+my own example, how silly and ridiculous the kind of people she
+associated with were, if I pretended to be as bad as the worst of
+them, she would begin by seeing how ridiculous _I_ was, and be
+frightened into realizing her own position.  At any rate, she would
+be forced into giving it all up to save me.  Of course I didn't
+expect her to be taken ill.  When THAT happened I was SO
+conscience-stricken.  I thought I never should forgive myself.  But
+it has turned out so well, that even that is--"
+
+"Gertie!  Gertie Dott! stop where you are.  Do you mean to tell me
+that all your--your advancin' and dancin' and bridgin' and tea-in'
+and Chapterin' was just--"
+
+"Just make-believe, that's all.  I hated it as much as you did; as
+much as Mother does now."
+
+"My SOUL! but--but it can't be!  Cousin Percy--"
+
+"Oh, do forget Cousin Percy!  I was sure he was exactly what he was
+and that he was using you and Mother as conveniences for providing
+him with a home and luxuries which he was too worthless to work
+for.  I was sure of it, morally sure, but I made up my mind to find
+out.  So I cultivated him, and I cultivated his particular friends,
+and I did find out.  I pretended to like him--"
+
+"Hold on! for mercy sakes, hold on!  YOU pretended, but--but HE
+didn't.  If ever a feller was gone on a young woman he was, towards
+the last of it.  Why, he--"
+
+"Hush! hush!  Don't speak of it.  It makes me disgusted with myself
+even to think of him.  If he was--was as you say, it is all the
+better.  It serves him right.  And I think that it was with my--
+with your money, Daddy, much more than your daughter, he was
+infatuated.  I had the satisfaction of telling him my opinion of
+him and his conduct before he left."
+
+"Ho! you did, hey?  Humph!  I wish I might have heard it.  But,
+Gertie," his incredulity not entirely crushed, "it wasn't ALL make-
+believe; all of it couldn't have been.  Even Zuba, she got the
+advancin' craziness.  She joined a--a 'Band,' or somethin'."
+
+"No, she didn't.  She pretended to, but she didn't.  There wasn't
+any such 'Band.'  She was helping me to cure Mother, that's all.
+It was all part of the plan.  Her husband understands now,
+although," with a laugh, "he didn't when he first came."
+
+Daniel drew his hand across his forehead.
+
+"Well!" he exclaimed.  "WELL! and I--and I--"
+
+"I treated you dreadfully, didn't I?  Scolded you, and told you to
+go away, and--and everything.  I COULDN'T tell you the truth,
+because you cannot keep a secret, but I was sorry, so sorry for
+you, even when you were most provoking.  You WOULD interfere, you
+know.  Two or three times you almost spoiled it all."
+
+"Did I?  I shouldn't wonder.  And--and to think I never suspicioned
+a bit of it!"
+
+"I don't see why you didn't.  It was so plain.  I'm sure Mother
+suspects--now."
+
+"Probably she does.  If I wasn't what I've called myself so much
+lately, an old fool, I'd have suspected, too.  I AM an old fool."
+
+"No, you're not.  You are YOU, and that is why I love you--why,
+everyone who knows you loves you.  I wouldn't have you changed one
+iota.  You are the dearest, best father in the world.  And you are
+going to be happy now, aren't you?"
+
+"I--I don't know.  I ought to be, I suppose.  I guess I shall be--
+if I ever get over thinkin' what a foolhead I was.  So Zuba was
+part of it all, hey?  And John, too?  He was in it, I presume
+likely."
+
+Gertrude's expression changed; so did her tone.
+
+"We won't talk about John, Daddy," she said.  "Please don't."
+
+"Why not?  I want to talk about him.  In a way--yes, sir! in a way
+I ain't sure that--that I didn't have a hand in spoilin' that, too.
+Considerin' what you've just told me, I wouldn't wonder if I did."
+
+His daughter had risen to go.  Now she turned back.
+
+"What do you mean?" she asked.  "What do you mean?  Spoiling--
+what?"
+
+"Why--why, you and John, you know.  Whatever happened between you
+and him happened that night when he come to Scarford.  And he
+wouldn't have come--not then--if I hadn't written for him."
+
+Gertrude was speechless.  Her father went on.
+
+"Long's we're confessin'," he said, "we might as well make a clean
+job of it.  I wrote him, all on my own hook.  You see, Gertie,
+'twas on your account mainly.  I was gettin' pretty desperate about
+you.  Instead of straightenin' out your ma's course you were
+followin' in her wake, runnin' ahead of her, if anything.  It
+looked as if you'd have her hull down and out of the race, if you
+kept on.  _I_ couldn't hold you back, and, bein' desperate, as I
+say, I wrote John to come and see if he could.  And I told him to
+come quick. . . .  Hey?  What did you say?"
+
+The young lady had said nothing; she had been listening, however,
+and now she seemed to have found an answer to a puzzle.
+
+"So that was why he came?" she said, in a low tone, as if thinking
+aloud.  "That was why.  But--but without a word to me."
+
+"Oh, I 'specially wrote him not to tell you he was comin'.  I
+didn't want you to know.  I wanted to have a talk with him first
+and tell him just how matters stood.  After you'd gone to Chapter
+meetin' that night--I always thought 'twas queer, your bein' so
+determined to go, but I see why now; 'twas part of your plan,
+wasn't it?"
+
+"Yes, yes, of course.  Go on."
+
+"Well, I judge John thought 'twas funny, too--but never mind.
+After you'd gone, he and I had our talk.  I told him everything.
+He was kind of troubled; I could see that; but he stood up for you
+through thick and thin.  He only laughed when I told him--told him
+some things, those that worried me most."
+
+Gertrude noticed his hesitation.
+
+"What were those things?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, nothin'.  They seem so foolish now; but at that time--"
+
+"Daddy, did you tell him of my--my supposed friendship for Mr.
+Hungerford?"
+
+Daniel reluctantly nodded.  "Yes," he admitted.  "I told him some.
+Maybe I told him more than was absolutely true.  Perhaps I
+exaggerated a little.  But he was so stubborn in not believin',
+that. . . .  Hey?  By Godfreys!" as the thought struck him for the
+first time, "THAT wasn't what ailed John, was it?  He wasn't
+JEALOUS of that consarned Percy?"
+
+Gertrude did not answer.
+
+"It couldn't be," continued Daniel.  "He's got more sense than
+that.  Besides, you told him, when you and he were alone together,
+why you was actin' so, didn't you?  Or did he know it beforehand?
+I presume likely he did.  Your mother and I seem to have been the
+only animals left outside the show tent."
+
+Again there was no answer.  When the young lady spoke it was to ask
+another question.
+
+"Daddy," she said, not looking at him, but folding and unfolding a
+bit of paper on the counter, "are you SURE you mailed that letter I
+gave you the morning after--after he went away?"
+
+"What?  That letter to John that you gave me to mail?  I'm sure as
+I can be of anything.  I put it right in amongst the bills and
+checks I had ready, and when the postman came I gave 'em all to him
+with my own hands.  Yes, it was mailed all right."
+
+"And no letters--letters for me--came afterwards, which I didn't
+receive?  You didn't put one in your pocket and forget it?"
+
+"No.  I'm sure of that.  Why, your mother's cleaned out all my
+pockets a dozen times since.  She says I use my clothes for
+wastebaskets, and she has to empty 'em pretty nigh as often.  No, I
+didn't forget any letter for you, Gertie.  But why?  What made you
+think I might have?"
+
+"Oh, nothing; nothing, Daddy.  Then, throwing down the bit of paper
+and moving toward the door, "I must go in and see Mother.  I have
+scarcely seen her all the morning."
+
+"But hold on, Gertie!  Don't go.  I haven't found out what--Stop!
+Gertie, look at me!  Why don't you look at me?"
+
+She would not look and she would not stop.  The door closed behind
+her.  Captain Dan threw himself back in the chair.  When Mr. Bangs,
+returning from his trip after orders, entered the store he found
+his employer just where he had left him.  Now, however, the
+expression of high, good humor was no longer upon the captain's
+face.
+
+"Well, Cap'n," hailed Nathaniel cheerfully.  "Still on deck, I see.
+What are you doing; exercising your mind?"
+
+"Humph!  What little mind I'VE got has been exercised too blessed
+much.  It needs rest more'n anything, but it don't seem likely to
+get a great deal.  Nate, this world reminds me of a worn-out
+schooner, it's as full of troubles as that is full of leaks; and
+you no sooner get one patched up than another breaks out in a new
+place.  Ah hum! . . .  What you got there?  The mail, is it?
+Anything for me?"
+
+There was one letter bearing the captain's name.  Nathaniel handed
+it to the owner of that name and the latter inspected the envelope
+and the postmark.
+
+"From Labe Ginn," he observed.  "Nobody else in Scarford that I
+know would spell Daniel with two 'l's and no 'i.'  What's troublin'
+Laban?  Somethin' about the house, I presume likely."
+
+He leisurely tore open the envelope.  The letter was a lengthy one,
+scrawled upon a half dozen sheets of cheap note paper.  The
+handwriting was almost as unique as the spelling, which is saying
+considerable.
+
+"From Laban, is it?" asked Mr. Bangs casually.
+
+"Yup, it's from Labe."
+
+"There was another from him, then.  At any rate there was one
+addressed in the same hen-tracks to Azuba.  I met her as I was
+coming out of the post-office and gave it to her; she was on her
+way to the grocery store, she said."
+
+Daniel nodded, but made no comment.  He was doing his best to
+decipher Mr. Ginn's hieroglyphics.  Occasionally he chuckled.
+
+Laban began by saying that he expected his term as caretaker of the
+Scarford property to be of short duration.  He had dropped in at
+the real estate office and had there been told that arrangements
+for the leasing of the mansion, furniture, and all, were
+practically completed.  The new tenant would move in within a
+fortnight, he was almost sure.  Mr. Ginn, personally, would be glad
+of it, for it was "lonesomer than a meeting-house on a week day."
+
+"I spend the heft of my daytimes out in the Back yard," he wrote.
+"I've lokated a bordin house handy by, but the Grub thare is tuffer
+than the mug on a Whailer two year out.  I don't offen meet anybody
+I know, but tother day I met barney Black.  He asked about you and
+your fokes and I told him.  He was prety down on his Luck I thort
+and acted Blue.  His wife is hed neck and heles in Chapter goins
+on.  I see her name in the Newspaper about evry day.
+
+"He said give you his Regards and tell you you was a dam lukky
+Man."
+
+Captain Dan's chuckle developed into a hearty laugh.  He
+sympathized with and understood the feelings of B. Phelps.
+
+"He has sold his summer Plase at Trumet," the letter went on.
+"Mrs. Black don't want to come thare no more.  He wuddent say why
+but I shuddent wonder if it was becos she ain't hankering to mete
+your Wife after the way she treted her.  He has sold the Plase to
+some fokes name of Fenholtz.  I know thats the rite name becos I
+made him spel it for me.  Do you know them?"
+
+Daniel uttered an exclamation of delight and struck his thigh a
+resounding slap.
+
+"What's up?" asked Nathaniel.  "Got some good news?"
+
+"You bet!  Mighty good!  Some people I knew and liked in Scarford
+have bought the Black cottage here in Trumet.  I rather guess I am
+responsible in a way; I preached Cape Cod to 'em pretty steady.
+The Fenholtzes!  Well, well!"
+
+"What I realy wrote you for," continued Mr. Ginn, at the top of
+page four, "was to tell you that I had a feller come to see me
+Yesterday.  It was that forriner Hapgood who used to work for you.
+He looked prety run to seed.  He haddent got anny Job since he left
+you, he sed, and he was flat Broke.  I gave him a Square meel or
+what they call one at the bordin' house and he and me had a long
+talk.  He told me a lot of things but manely all he wanted to talk
+about was that Swab of a Coussin of yours, that Hungerford.
+Hapgood was down on him like a Gull on a sand ele.  He sed
+Hungerford was a mene sneak and had treted him bad.  He told me a
+Lot about how Hungerford worked you fokes for sukkers and how he
+helped.  Seems him and Hungerford was old shipmates and chums and
+had worked your ant Laviny the same way.  Hungerford used to pay
+him, but now that he is flat Broke and can't help no more, he won't
+give him a cent.  Hapgood says if you knew what he knows you'd be
+intterested.  He says Hungerford pade him to get a hold of
+Tellygrams and letters that he thort you had better not see.  He
+had one Coppy of a tellygram that he says come to him over the
+Tellyfone 3 days after John Doane left your house.  I lent him a
+cupple of dollars and he gave me the Coppy.  It is from John to
+Gertie, but she never got it becos Hapgood never told her.  I send
+it in this letter."
+
+Captain Dan, who had read the latter part of this long paragraph
+with increasing excitement, now stopped his reading and began a
+hurried search for the "Coppy."  He found it, on a separate sheet.
+It was written in pencil in Hapgood's neat, exact handwriting and
+was, compared to Mr. Ginn's labored scrawl, very easy to read.  And
+this was what the captain read:
+
+
+"MISS GERTRUDE DOTT,
+
+"No. -- Blank Avenue,
+"Scarford, Mass.
+
+"Why haven't you written?  Did you receive my letters?  The firm
+are sending me on urgent business to San Francisco.  I leave to-
+night.  If you write me there I shall know all is well and you have
+not changed.  If not I shall know the other thing.  I shall hope
+for a letter.  San Francisco address is--"
+
+
+Then followed the address and the signature, "John Doane."
+
+The "Coppy" dropped in Daniel's lap.  He closed his eyes.  Nate
+Bangs, glancing at him, judged that he was falling asleep, but Mr.
+Bangs's usually acute judgment was, in this instance, entirely
+wrong.  So far from sleeping, the captain was just beginning to
+wake up.
+
+"Why haven't you written?"  That meant that John had never received
+the letter which Gertrude wrote, the letter which she had given
+him--her father--to post.  Why had it not been received?  It had
+been posted.  He gave it to the carrier with his own hands.
+
+Before the captain's closed eyes that scene in the library passed
+in review.  He was at his desk, Gertrude entered and handed him the
+letter.  He commented upon its address and placed it with the
+others, the envelopes containing bills and checks, upon the table.
+Then the postman came and--
+
+No--wait.  The postman had not come immediately.  Serena had called
+and he, Daniel, had gone up to her room in answer to the call.  But
+he had come down when the postman rang and. . . .  Wait again!
+There had been someone in the library when he was called away.  He
+dimly remembered. . . .  What? . . .  Why, yes!  Cousin Percy had
+come in and--
+
+Daniel leaped to his feet.  His chair slid back on its castors and
+struck the safe behind him.  Mr. Bangs looked up.
+
+"Why, what's the matter?" he cried, in alarm.  "Is--Where are you
+going?"
+
+Captain Dan did not answer.  He was running, actually running,
+toward the door.  Bareheaded he dashed across the yard.  His foot
+was on the threshold of the back porch of the house, when he
+stopped short.  For a moment he stood still; then he turned and ran
+back to the store again.
+
+Nathaniel, who had followed him to the side entrance of The
+Metropolitan, met him there.
+
+"For mercy sakes, Cap'n Dott!" he began.  "What IS it?"
+
+Daniel did not answer.  He pushed past his perturbed manager and,
+rushing to the closet in which the telephone instrument hung,
+closed the door behind him.  He jerked the receiver from the hook,
+placed it at his ear, and shouted into the transmitter.
+
+"Hello!  Hello there, Central!" he bellowed.  "I want a long
+distance call.  I want to talk to Saunders, Griffin and Company,
+Pearl Street, Boston. . . .  Hey? . . . Yes, I want to talk to Mr.
+Doane. . . .  NO, not Cone!  Doane--Doane--Mr. John Doane. . . .
+Hey? . . .  You'll call me? . . .  All right, then; be as quick as
+you can, that's all."
+
+He hung up the receiver and, flinging the door open, dashed out
+into the store again, and began pacing up and down.
+
+Nathaniel ventured one more question.
+
+"Of course it ain't any of my business, Cap'n Dott," he stammered,
+"but--"
+
+Daniel waved his hand.
+
+"Sshh! shh!" he commanded.  "It's all right.  I'll tell you by and
+by.  But now I want to think.  To think, by time!"
+
+Ten minutes later the telephone bell rang.
+
+"Hello!  Here is your Boston call," announced Central.
+
+"All right! all right!  Is this Saunders, Griffin and Company? . . .
+Hey? . . .  Is Mr. Doane there? . . .  What?  I want to know!
+Is that you, John? . . .  This is Dott, speakin'. . . .  Yes, Dan
+Dott. . . .  No, no, of Trumet, not Scarford. . . .  Yes. . . .
+YES. . . .  Here! you let me do the talkin'; you listen."
+
+
+
+Captain Dan ate scarcely any luncheon that day.  He seemed to have
+lost his appetite.  This was a good deal of a loss and his wife
+commented upon it.
+
+"What does ail you, Daniel?" she asked anxiously.  "Why don't you
+eat?"
+
+"Hey?  Oh, I don't know, Serena.  Don't feel hungry, somehow."
+
+"Well, it's the first time you haven't been hungry since you came
+back to Trumet.  I was beginning to think Azuba and I couldn't get
+enough for you TO eat.  And now, all at once, you're not hungry.
+What does ail you?"
+
+"Ail me?  Nothin' ails me."
+
+"Don't you feel well?"
+
+"Never felt better in my life.  Don't believe I ever felt quite so
+good."
+
+"You act awfully queer."
+
+"Do I?  Don't you worry about me, Serena.  My appetite'll be back
+all right by dinner time.  You want to lay in an extra stock for
+dinner.  I'll probably eat you out of house and home then.  Better
+figure on as much as if you was goin' to have company.  Ain't that
+so, Zuba?"
+
+He winked at the housekeeper.  His wife noticed the wink.
+
+"What is it?" she demanded.  "There's something going on that I
+don't know about.  Are you and Azuba planning some sort of
+surprise?"
+
+"Surprise!  What sort of surprise would Zuba and I plan?  She's had
+one surprise in the last six weeks and that ought to be enough.
+Laban's droppin' in unexpected was surprise enough to keep you
+satisfied, wasn't it, Zuba?  I never saw anybody more surprised
+than you was that night in the kitchen.  Ho! ho!"
+
+Azuba smiled grimly.  "A few more surprises like that," she
+observed, "and I'll be surprised to death.  Don't talk to ME about
+surprises."
+
+"_I_ wasn't talkin' about 'em, 'twas Serena that started it."
+
+Mrs. Dott was still suspicious.  She turned to her daughter.
+
+"Gertie," she asked, "do YOU know what your father is acting so
+ridiculous about?  Is there a secret between you three?"
+
+Gertrude had been very quiet and grave during the meal.
+
+"No," she said.  "There is no secret that I know of.  Father is
+happy because we are back here in his beloved Trumet, I suppose."
+
+"Humph!  Well, his happiness hasn't interfered with his appetite
+before.  There's something else; I'm sure of it.  Why, Gertie!
+aren't you going to eat, either?  You're not through luncheon!"
+
+The young lady had risen from the table.
+
+"You've eaten scarcely anything, Gertie," protested her mother.  "I
+never saw such people.  Are YOU so happy that you can't eat.  Sit
+down."
+
+Gertrude did not look happy.  She did not sit down.  Instead she
+hastily declared that she was not hungry, and left the room.
+
+Serena stared after her.
+
+"Was she crying, Daniel?" she asked.  "She looked as if she was
+just going to.  Ever since she came in from her walk she has been
+so downcast and sad.  She won't talk and she hasn't smiled once.
+Daniel, has she said anything to you?  Do you know what ails her?"
+
+The captain shook his head.
+
+"She and I had a little talk out in the store," he admitted.  "I
+shouldn't wonder if she was thinkin' about--about--"
+
+"About John, do you mean?"
+
+"Maybe so."
+
+"Did she talk with you about HIM?  She won't let me mention his
+name.  Daniel, I feel SO bad about that.  I'm afraid I was to
+blame, somehow.  If we hadn't gone to Scarford--if . . . Daniel,
+I'm going to her."
+
+She rose.  Her husband laid a hand on her arm.
+
+"Sit down, Serena," he urged.  "Sit down."
+
+"But, Daniel, let me go.  I must go to her.  The poor girl!
+Perhaps I can comfort her, though how, I don't know.  John Doane!"
+with a burst of indignation.  "If I ever meet that young man I'll
+give him my opinion of his--"
+
+"Sshh! shh! Serena!  You sit down and finish your luncheon.  Don't
+you worry about Gertie.  And you needn't worry about her appetite
+or mine.  I tell you what I'll do:  If she and I don't have
+appetite enough for dinner to-night--or breakfast to-morrow
+mornin', anyhow--I'll swallow that platter whole.  There!  A sight
+like that ought to be worth waitin' for.  Cheer up, old lady, and
+possess your soul in patience.  This craft is just gettin' out of
+the doldrums.  There's a fair wind and clear weather comin' for the
+Dott frigate, or I'm no sailor.  You just trust me and wait.  Yes,
+and let Gertie alone."
+
+He positively refused to explain what he meant by this optimistic
+prophecy, or to permit his wife to go to their daughter.  Gertrude
+went out soon afterward--for another walk, she said--and Serena
+retired to her room for the afternoon nap which the doctor had
+prescribed as part of her rest cure.  For a time she could not
+sleep, but lay there wondering and speculating concerning her
+husband's strange words and his equally strange attitude of
+confident and excited happiness.  What did it mean?  There was some
+secret she was sure; some good news for Gertrude; there must be.
+She, too, began to share the excitement and feel the confidence.
+Daniel had asked her to trust him, and she did trust him.  He, and
+not she, had been right in judging Mrs. Black and Cousin Percy, and
+Scarford, and all the rest.  He had been right all through.  She
+had reason to trust him; he was always right.  With this comforting
+conclusion--one indication of the mental revolution which her
+Scarford experience had brought about--she ceased wondering and
+dropped to sleep.
+
+Captain Dan and Azuba had a short conference in the kitchen.
+
+"Understand, do you, Zuba?" queried the captain.  "A late dinner
+and plenty of it."
+
+"I understand.  Land sakes!  I ain't altogether a numskull or a
+young-one, even if I do have to be shut up in the closet to make me
+behave."
+
+"Ho! ho!  I expect you could have knocked my head off for bein' in
+the way just at that time."
+
+"Humph!" with a one-sided smile, "I could have knocked my own off
+for not listenin' afore I come downstairs.  If I'd heard Laban's
+voice I bet you I wouldn't have come.  All I needed was a chance to
+be alone with him and explain what Gertie and I were up to."
+
+"Well, I'm glad you didn't have the chance.  I wouldn't have missed
+that show for somethin'.  It beat all my goin' to sea, that did.
+How you did holler!"
+
+He roared with laughter.  Azuba watched him with growing
+impatience.
+
+"Got through actin' like a Bedlamite?" she inquired tartly, when he
+stopped for breath.  "If you have you can clear out and let me get
+to my dish-washin'."
+
+"I'm through.  Oh, by the way, what did Labe say in your letter?
+I've told you what he wrote me, but I forgot that he wrote you,
+too."
+
+Mrs. Ginn looked troubled.  "I don't know what to do with that
+man," she declared.  "I expect any minute to get word that he's
+been put in the lock-up.  If that house of yours ain't rented or
+sold pretty quick, so he can get to sea again, he will be.  Do you
+know what he's done to that Hungerford critter?"
+
+"DONE to him!  What do you mean?  He hasn't seen him, has he?"
+
+"No, he ain't seen him, thank goodness, but Labe is so wrought up
+over what that Hapgood thief told him, about your precious cousin
+stealin' your telegrams and so on, that he and Hapgood have gone in
+cahoots to play a trick on Mr. Percy.  Labe says Hapgood told him
+that Percy was keepin' company now with another woman there in
+Scarford, a young woman with money, of course--he wouldn't chase
+any other kind.  Well, Hapgood--he's a healthy specimen for my
+husband to be in with, he is--Hapgood knows a lot about Hungerford
+and his goin's on in the past, and he's got a lot of the Percy
+man's old letters from other girls.  Don't ask ME how he got 'em;
+stole 'em, I suppose, same as he stole that telegram from John.
+Anyhow, Labe and Hapgood have sent those letters to the present
+young woman's pa."
+
+Daniel whistled.  "Whew!" he exclaimed.  "That's interestin'."
+
+"Ain't it, now!  Laban says the old commodore--meanin' the pa, I
+suppose--is a holy terror and sets more store by his daughter than
+he does by his hopes of salvation, enough sight.  Good reason, too,
+I presume likely; he's toler'ble sure of the daughter.  Well,
+anyhow, the letters are gone and Labe says he's willin' to bet that
+Cousin Percy'll be GOIN'--out of the window and out of Scarford--
+when papa gets after him.  Nice mess, ain't it!"
+
+Captain Dan whistled again.  "Well, Zuba," he observed, "we can't
+help it, as I see.  What's done's done and chickens do come home to
+roost, don't they?"
+
+"Humph!  I wish my husband would come home and roost where I can
+keep my eye on him.  He says he's gettin' sick of bein' a land
+lubber.  He'll be aboard some ship and off again afore long, that's
+some comfort.  The only time I know that man is safe is when he's a
+thousand miles from dry land."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+Serena and Daniel were together in the parlor.  It was past dinner
+time, but Azuba, for some reason or other, had not gotten dinner
+ready.  This was unusual for, if there was one thing upon which the
+housekeeper prided herself, it was in being "prompt at meal times."
+She was setting the table now, however, and they could hear her
+rattling the knives and forks and singing, actually singing.
+
+"Azuba is in good spirits, isn't she," observed Serena.  "I haven't
+heard her sing before for a long time.  I suppose, like the rest of
+us, she has been too troubled to sing."
+
+Captain Dan listened to the singing, shook his head, and remarked
+whimsically, "There's some comfort to be got out of trouble, then.
+Say, the 'Sweet By and By' would turn sour if it could hear her
+sing about it, wouldn't it?"
+
+"Hush, Daniel, don't be irreverent.  Why don't you light the lamp,
+or let me light it?  It's getting so dark I can hardly see you."
+
+"Never mind; let's sit in the dark a spell.  Gertie comin' down
+pretty soon, is she?"
+
+"Yes.  She's changing her dress, because you asked her to.  Why did
+you ask her?  Why should she dress up just for you and me?"
+
+"Oh, just a notion of mine.  I like that red dress of hers, anyway;
+the one with the fringe trimmin's along the upper riggin'."
+
+"That dress isn't red, it's pink."
+
+"I don't care.  I thought 'twas about the color of my nose, and if
+that's pink then I'm losin' my complexion."
+
+"Daniel!" with a laugh, "how you do talk and act to-day!  At
+luncheon you were as queer as could be and now you're worse.  I
+never saw you so fidgety and excited.  What IS going to happen?
+Something, I know.  You wouldn't tell me this noon; will you tell
+me now?"
+
+"Pretty soon, Serena; pretty soon.  Now let's talk about somethin'
+interestin'; about ourselves, for instance.  How do you like bein'
+back here in Trumet?  Ain't gettin' tired of it, are you?  The old
+town doesn't seem stupid; hey?"
+
+"No, indeed!  Don't speak that way, Daniel."
+
+"Well, I just mentioned it, that's all.  Soon as you do get tired
+and want to see somethin' new, we'll take that cruise to Washin'ton
+or the Falls or somewheres.  Never mind the price.  Way I feel now
+I'd go to the moon if 'twould please you.  Say the word and I'll
+hire the balloon to-morrow--or Monday, anyway; no business done in
+Trumet on Sunday."
+
+Serena laughed again.  "I shan't say it for a long while," she
+declared.  "I am having such a good time.  The house seems so snug
+and homey.  And all our old friends and neighbors have been so
+kind.  They seemed so glad to see us when we came, as if they were
+real friends, not the make-believe sort."
+
+"Not the Annette kind, you mean.  That particular breed of cats is
+scarce on the Cape--at least I hope it is."
+
+"So do I.  I never want to see her again.  I am so glad they have
+sold their cottage here, and that the Fenholtzes have bought it--if
+they have bought it, as you say you heard.  You always liked the
+Fenholtzes, Daniel.  I did, too, or I should if Annette hadn't told
+me--"
+
+"I know, I know.  Some day that woman will tell the truth by
+accident and the Ladies of Honor crowd'll be mournin' a leadin'
+light that went out sudden.  But never mind her.  The folks here
+HAVE been nice to us, haven't they?"
+
+"Indeed they have!  And so thoughtful!  Why, Sophronia Smalley even
+came to ask me if I wouldn't consider taking my old place as
+president of Trumet Chapter.  She is president now, but she
+declared she would resign in a minute in my favor."
+
+For an instant Captain Dan's exuberant spirits were dashed.
+
+"She did!" he cried.  "Well, if that woman ain't. . . .  Humph!
+Are you thinkin' of lettin' her resign, Serena?"
+
+"No."
+
+"I--I wouldn't stand in your way if you did, you know.  I mustn't
+be selfish.  Trumet ain't Scarford, and if you want to--"
+
+"I don't, I don't.  I may attend a meeting once in a while, later
+on, but I never shall hold office again.  I have had all the
+'advancement' I want."
+
+"Advancin' backwards, some folks would call what you're doin' now,
+Serena, I cal'late.  There!  I've said 'cal'late' again.  I haven't
+said it before for a long time.  This Cape sand has got into my
+grammar, I guess.  I must be careful."
+
+"You needn't be.  Say 'cal'late' if you want to, I am not going to
+fret you about your grammar any more, Daniel.  I've got over that,
+too.  I'd rather have you, just as you are, than any other man in
+the world, grammar or no grammar."
+
+"Whew!  Hold on, old lady!  If you talk that way I'll get so puffed
+up I'll bust into smoke when you touch me, like a dry toadstool.
+I--Hello! what was that?  The train whistle, was it?"
+
+"Yes.  Here is the night train in; it is almost mail time, and no
+dinner yet.  What IS the matter with Azuba?  I'll speak to her."
+
+She was rising to go to the dining-room, but her husband detained
+her.
+
+"No, you wait; no, you mustn't," he said, hastily.  "Sit right
+down, Serena.  Speakin' of dinners, this talk of ours is like that
+everlastin' long meal that you and I went to at Barney Black's
+house just after we landed in Scarford.  You remember it took half
+an hour to get to anything solid in that dinner, don't you?  Yes,
+well, I'm just gettin' to the meat of my talk.  And I want Gertie
+to come in on that course.  She is on her way downstairs now; I
+hear her.  Hi!  Gertie! come in here, won't you!"
+
+Gertrude entered the room.
+
+"Where are you, Daddy?" she asked.
+
+"Here I am, over here by the window."
+
+"But why haven't you lighted the lamp?  Why are you sitting here in
+the dark?"
+
+Serena answered.  "Goodness knows," she replied.  "Your father
+would insist on it.  I think he is going crazy; he has acted that
+way ever since lunch."
+
+The demented one chuckled.
+
+"You see, Gertie," he explained, "'twas on account of my
+bashfulness.  Your mother, she wanted to sit along with me and hold
+hands, so--.  Oh, all right; all right.  You can show a glim now,
+Serena, if you want to.  I'll cover up my blushes."
+
+The maligned Mrs. Dott announced that she had a good mind to box
+his ears.  "That's what I should do to a child," she added, "and
+nobody could act more childish than you have this afternoon."
+
+"Second childhood, Serena.  Second childhood and dodderin' old age
+are creepin' over me fast.  There!" as the lamp blazed and the
+parlor was illuminated, "now you can see for yourself.  Do I dodder
+much?"
+
+Even Gertrude was obliged to laugh.
+
+"Daddy!" she cried; "you silly thing!  I believe you ARE getting
+childish."
+
+"Am I?  All right, I'm willing to be, at the price.  My! Gertie,
+you look awfully pretty.  Don't she look 'specially pretty to you
+to-night, Serena?"
+
+Serena smiled.  "That gown was always becoming," she said.
+
+"I know it was; that's why I wanted her to put it on.  And she's
+fixed her hair the way I like, too.  My! my! if some folks I know
+could see you now, Gertie, they'd. . . .  Ahem!  Well, never mind.
+She looks as if she was expectin' company and had rigged up for it,
+doesn't she, Serena?"
+
+Gertrude paid little attention to this rather strained attempt at a
+joke.  She merely smiled and turned away.  But her mother appeared
+to suspect a hidden meaning in the words.  She leaned forward and
+gazed at her husband.
+
+"Daniel," she cried, sharply and with increasing excitement;
+"Daniel Dott, what are you--"
+
+The captain waved her to silence.  She would have spoken in spite
+of it, but his second wave and shake of the head were so emphatic
+that she hesitated.  Before the moment of hesitation was at an end
+Captain Dan himself began to speak.  He spoke in a new tone now and
+more and more rapidly.
+
+"Serena, don't interrupt me," he ordered.  "Gertie, listen.  I'm
+goin' to tell you both a story.  Once there was a couple of married
+folks that had a daughter. . . .  Hush, I tell you!  Listen, both
+of you.  I AIN'T crazy.  If ever I talked sense in my life I'm
+talkin' it now. . . .  This couple, as I say, had a daughter.  This
+daughter was engaged to be married.  The old folks moved away from
+the place they had always lived and went somewhere else.  There
+they both commenced to make fools of themselves.  The place was all
+right enough, maybe, but they didn't belong in it.  The daughter,
+she came there and she saw how things were goin' and, says she:
+'I'll fix 'em.  I'll cure 'em and save 'em, too, by showin' 'em an
+example, my example.  I'll--'"
+
+Gertrude broke in.
+
+"Daddy," she cried, with a warning glance at her mother, "be
+careful.  Don't be silly.  What is the use--"
+
+"Hush!  Hush and be still!  Never mind what she did.  All is, she
+showed 'em and she cured 'em and she saved 'em.  But meanwhile her
+meddlesome old father had got worried, not understandin' what was
+goin' on, and he put his oar in.  He wrote for the young chap she
+was engaged to to come down and help cure HER.  The father meant
+all right.  He--"
+
+Again the young lady interrupted.
+
+"Mother," she said, "this is nonsense, the way father is telling
+it.  I meant to tell you, myself, by and by.  I'm sure you have
+guessed it, anyway, but--"
+
+"There's one part she hasn't guessed," shouted Captain Dan; "or
+that you haven't guessed either, Gertie, God bless you.  _I_
+guessed it myself, this very day, and I guessed it because I had a
+letter from Labe Ginn up at Scarford that put me on the right
+track.  Gertie, that letter you wrote to John WASN'T mailed; the
+postman DIDN'T get it; John himself never got it."
+
+"Daddy!  Daddy, what--"
+
+"Wait! wait!  How do I know? you were goin' to say.  I know because
+I know who did get it.  Cousin Percy Hungerford--confound his
+miserable, worthless hulk!  HE got it; he stole it from my table,
+where it laid along with my other letters, when I was out of the
+room.  And--wait! that isn't all.  John DID write you, Gertie.  He
+wrote you two or three times and he telegraphed you once.  And you
+didn't get either letters or telegram because that Hapgood butler--
+Oh, if I had only known this when I chased him out of the back
+yard!  He'd have gone over the fence instead of through the gate--
+he was helpin' our dear cousin and gettin' paid for it, and HE
+stole 'em.  There! that's the truth and. . . .  My soul!  I believe
+I've scared the girl to death."
+
+He sprang forward.  Serena, too, although she was almost as much
+surprised and agitated as her daughter, hastened to the latter's
+side.
+
+But Gertrude, although white and shaken, was far from being "scared
+to death."  She was very much alive.
+
+"Are you sure, Daddy?" she cried.  "Are you SURE?  How do you
+know?"
+
+"I know because Labe wrote that Hapgood told him.  That's how I
+know about the telegram.  And I know that's what happened to your
+letter because John didn't get it."
+
+"How do you know he didn't get it?  Please, Mother, don't worry
+about me.  I am all right.  How do you know John didn't get my
+letter, Father?"
+
+"I know because. . . .  Is that a wagon stoppin' at our gate,
+Serena?"
+
+"Never mind if it is.  Answer Gertie's question.  HOW do you know?"
+
+Steps sounded on the front porch.  Captain Dan strode to the hall
+and stood with one hand on the knob of the front door.
+
+"I know," he declared triumphantly, "because I telephoned John this
+very day and he told me so.  And now, by the everlastin', he'll
+tell you so himself!"
+
+He flung the door wide.
+
+"Come in, John!" he shouted, in a roar which was heard even by deaf
+old Ebenezer Simpkins, driver of the depot wagon, who was just
+piloting his ancient steed from the Dott gate.  "Come in, John!"
+roared Captain Dan.  "There she is, in there, waitin' for you."
+
+And Mr. Doane came, you may be sure.
+
+Serena and Daniel waited in the dining-room.  They were obliged to
+wait for some time.  The captain's triumphant exuberance continued
+to bubble over.  He chuckled and laughed and crowed vaingloriously
+over his success in keeping the secret ever since noon.
+
+"I was bound I wouldn't tell, Serena," he declared.  "I was bound I
+wouldn't.  I told John over the 'phone; I said:  'I won't tell a
+soul you're comin', John.  We'll give 'em one surprise, won't we.'
+And, ho! ho! he didn't believe I could keep it to myself; he said
+he didn't.  But I did, I did--though I felt all afternoon as if I
+had a bombshell under my jacket."
+
+Serena laughed; she was as pleased as he.  "You certainly exploded
+it like a bombshell," she declared.  "I didn't know at first but
+that you really had gone crazy.  And poor Gertie! you didn't
+prepare her at all.  You blurted it out all at once.  The words
+fairly tumbled over each other.  I wonder she didn't faint."
+
+"She isn't the faintin' kind.  Serena, we never can be grateful
+enough to Gertie for what she's done for us.  And she sacrificed
+her own happiness--or thought she did--for you and me and didn't
+whimper or complain once."
+
+"I know, Daniel, I know.  And pretty soon now we must give her up
+to someone else.  That's the way of the world, though.  WE'LL have
+to be brave then, won't we."
+
+"So we will.  But I'd rather give her to John than any other man on
+earth.  The thought that it was all off between them and that she
+was grievin' over it was about the hardest thing of all."
+
+"So it was.  Well, now we can be completely happy, every one of
+us."
+
+Azuba flounced in from the kitchen.  "Ain't they come out of that
+parlor YET?" she demanded.  "I can't keep roast chicken waitin'
+forever, even for engaged folks."
+
+But the "engaged folks" themselves appeared at that moment.  As one
+of those who, according to Mrs. Dott, were to be completely happy,
+Mr. Doane looked his part.  Gertrude, too, although her eyes were
+wet, was smiling.
+
+John and the Dotts shook hands.  Daniel turned to his daughter.
+
+"Well, Gertie," he asked, "are you ready to forgive me for what
+happened on account of my sendin' that summons to John--that one up
+in Scarford, I mean?"
+
+"I think so, Daddy."
+
+"I thought maybe you would be, considerin'," with a wink at Mr.
+Doane, "the answer you got to my telephone to-day.  But, see here,
+young lady, I want to ask you somethin' and I expect a straight
+answer.  Can I keep a secret, or can't I?"
+
+"You can, Daddy, dear.  You kept this one almost seven hours."
+
+"Eight! eight, by Godfreys!  'Twas a strain, but I kept it."
+
+"You managed it all beautifully, Daniel," declared Serena.  "I am
+proud of you."
+
+"We're all proud of you, Captain Dan," said John.
+
+The captain smiled happily.
+
+"Much obliged," he said, "but I ain't the one you ought to be proud
+of.  When it comes to real managin' I ain't knee-high to the ship's
+cat alongside of Gertie there.  She's the one who pulled this
+family through.  No sir-ee! if you've got any time to spare bein'
+proud of folks, don't be proud of Cap'n Dan, but of Cap'n Dan's
+daughter.  Sit down, all hands.  Here comes dinner--at last."
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, CAP'N DAN'S DAUGHTER ***
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