“The Bostwicks must have been dark people,” said Tunis evenly.

But he remembered in a flash the “fool’s gold” which had adorned in rich profusion the head of the girl in the lace department of Hoskin & Marl’s.

“Well, the Honeys warn’t.  None I ever see, leastways,” announced Cap’n Ira.  “Howsomever, Ida May fits her mother’s maiden name in disposition, if ever a gal did.  She’s pure honey, Tunis; right from the comb!  And she takes to everything around the house that handy.”

Prudence was equally enthusiastic.  And Tunis Latham could see for himself many things which marked the regime of the newcomer at the Ball homestead as one of vast improvement over that past regime of the old couple, who had been forced to manage of late in ways which troubled their orderly souls.

“Catch as catch can,” was Cap’n Ball’s way of expressing the condition of the household and other affairs before the advent of Ida May.  Now matters were already getting to be “shipshape,” and no observer could fail to note the increased comfort enjoyed by Cap’n Ira and Prudence.

Nor need Tunis feel anxious, either, regarding the girl’s state of mind or body.  She was so blithe and cheerful that he could scarcely recall the picture of that girl who had waited upon him in the cheap restaurant on Scollay Square.  Here was a transformation indeed!

Nor had Ida May’s activities been confined wholly to the house and the old folks’ comfort.  He noted that the wire fence of the chicken run was handily repaired; that Aunt Prue’s few languishing flowers had been weeded; and that one end of the garden was the neater for the use of hoe and rake.

It was too late in the season, of course, for much new growth in the vegetable beds; but the half-hearted attention of John-Ed, junior, had never brought about this metamorphosis, Tunis well knew.  He went on to the Latham house, feeling well pleased.  Aside from all other considerations, he was glad to know that his Machiavellian plan had brought about these good results.

He did not have much time to spend with Sheila, for the Seamew’s freighting business was good.  He never remained ashore but one night between trips, and he spent that evening with his Aunt Lucretia, whose enjoyment of his presence in the house was none the less keen because inarticulate.

But when he started off across the fields for the port in the early morning he saw Sheila’s rising light, and she was at the back door to greet him when he went past.  They stole a little time to be together there, whispering outside the door so as not to awaken Cap’n Ira and Prudence.  And Tunis Latham went on to the wharf where the Seamew tied up with a warmth at his heart which he had never experienced before.

That another girl rose betimes on these mornings and waited and watched for him to pass, the young schooner captain never noticed.  That Eunez Pareta should be lingering about the edge of Portygee Town as he came down from the Head made small impression on his mind.  He never particularly remarked her presence or her smile as being for him alone.  It was that Eunez did not count in any of his calculations.