“But Cap’n Abe’s more to my taste.  Now the place seems right again with him in the house.  Cap’n Abe’s as easy as an old shoe.  And, land sakes!  I ain’t locked out o’ his bedroom when I want to clean!

“One thing puzzles me, Miss Lou.  I thought Cap’n Abe would take on c’nsiderable about Jerry.  But when I told him the canary was dead he up and said that mebbe ‘twas better so, seem’ the old bird couldn’t see no more.  Now, who would ha’ told him Jerry was blind?”

There were a few other things about the returned Cap’n Abe that might have amazed his neighbors.  He seemed to possess an almost uncanny knowledge of what had happened during the summer.  Besides, he seemed to have achieved Cap’n Amazon’s manner of “looking down” a too inquisitive inquirer into personal affairs and refusing to answer.

Because of this, perhaps, nobody was ever known to ask the storekeeper why he had filled his sea chest with bricks and useless dunnage when he shipped it to Boston.  That mystery was never explained.

Before Louise and her father were ready to leave Cardhaven most of the summer residents along The Beaches, including Aunt Euphemia, had gone.  And the moving picture company had also flown.

With the latter went Gusty Durgin, bravely refusing to have her artistic soul trammeled any longer by the claims of hungry boarders at the Cardhaven Inn.

“I don’t never expect to be one of these stars on the screen,” she confided to Louise.  “But I can make a good livin’, an’ ma’s childern by her second husband, Mr. Vleet, has got to be eddicated.

“I’m goin’ to make me up a fancy name and make a repertation.  They ain’t goin’ to call me ‘Dusty Gudgeon’ no more.  Miss Louder tells me I can ’bant’—­whatever that is—­to take down my flesh, and mebbe you’ll see me some day, Miss Lou, in a re’l ladylike part.  An’ I can always cry.  Even Mr. Bane says I’m wuth my wages when it comes to the tearful parts.”

The Tapps were flitting to Boston, Mrs. Tapp and the girls sure of “getting in” with the proper set at last.  Their summer’s campaign, thanks to Louise, had been successful to that end.

Louise and Lawford walked along the strand below the cottages.  The candy cutting machine had proved a success and Lawford was giving his attention to a new “mechanical wrapper” for salt water taffy that would do away with much hand labor.

On the most prominent outlook of Tapp Point were piles of building material and men at work.  The pudgy figure of I. Tapp was visible walking about, importantly directing the workmen.

“It’s going to be a most, wonderful house, Louise dear,” sighed Lawford.  “Do you suppose you can stand it?  The front elevation looks like a French chateau of the Middle Ages, and there ought to be a moat and a portcullis to make it look right.”

“Never mind,” she responded cheerfully.  “We won’t have to live in it—­much.  See.  We have all this to live in,” with a wide gesture.  “The sea and the shore.  Cape Cod forever!  I shall never be discontented here, Lawford.”