The women were not uncomely, nor did they dress in outlandish manner.  Great is the sway of the modern Catalogue House!  But their speech was blunt and the three topics of conversation most popular were the fish harvest, clamming, and summer boarders.

“Land sakes! is that you, Em’line Scudder?  What sent you cruisin’ in these waters?  I thought you never got away from the Haven.”

“Good-day, Mrs. Eldredge.  You’re fairin’ well?  I just had to come over to Littlebridge for some fixin’s.  My boarders will be ’long and I got to freshen the house up a little.”

“You goin’ to have the same folks you had last year, Em’line?”

“Oh, yes.  They’re real nice—–­for city people.  I tell Barzillai——­”

“How is Barzillai?”

“Middlin’.  His leg ain’t never been just right since he was helpin’ ice the Tryout, come two summers ago.  You know, one o’ them big cakes from the ice fact’ry fell on him. . . .  I tell Barzillai the city folks are a godsend to us Cape Codders in summer time, now that sea-goin’ don’t seem so pop’lar with the men as it useter be.”

“I dunno.  Some of these city folks don’t seem to be sent by the Lord, but by the other feller!” was the grim rejoinder.  “I had tryin’ times with my crowd last summer; and the children with ’em was a visitation—­like the plagues of Egypt!”

Louise was an amused yet observant listener.  She began thus early to gain what these good people themselves would call a “slant” upon their characters and their outlook on life.

Aside from her interest in her fellow-travelers, there were other things to engage the girl’s attention.  New places always appealed to her more than unfamiliar human beings; perhaps because she had seen so many of the latter in all quarters of the globe and found so little variety in their characters.  There were good people and bad people everywhere, Louise had found.  Greedy, generous, morose, and laughing; faithful and treacherous, the quick and the stupid; those likable at first meeting as well as those utterly impossible.  Of whatever nation and color they might be, she had learned that under their skins they were all just human beings.

But Nature—­ah! she was ever changing.  This girl who had seen so much of the world had never seen anything quite like the bits of scene she observed from the narrow window of the car.  Not beautiful, perhaps, but suggestive and provocative of genre pictures which would remain in her memory long afterward.  There were woods and fields, cranberry bogs and sand dunes, between the hamlets; and always through the open window the salt tang of the air delighted her.  She was almost prepared to say she was glad she had ventured when she left the train at Paulmouth and saw her trunks put off upon the platform.

A teetering stage, with a rack behind for light baggage, drawn by a pair of lean horses, waited beside the station.  The stage had been freshened for the season with a thin coat of yellow paint.  The word “Cardhaven” was painted in bright blue letters on the doors of this ancient coach.