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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cap'n Dan's Daughter, by Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Cap'n Dan's Daughter
+
+Author: Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+Release Date: June 6, 2006 [EBook #6718]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAP'N DAN'S DAUGHTER ***
+
+
+
+
+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 Project Gutenberg's Cap'n Dan's Daughter, by Joseph C. Lincoln
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