He went on to impart the suggestion.  His hearers listened, Zoeth silently and Shadrach with occasional mutterings and exclamations.

“So there you are,” said Keith in conclusion.  “The school is a good one, one of the best in Boston.  Two years there will do worlds for your niece.  It has done worlds for other girls I have known.  It is rather expensive, of course, but, as I understand it, Mary has money of her own of which you, as her guardians, have charge.  She couldn’t spend a portion of that money to better advantage.”

Zoeth said nothing, but he looked at the Captain and the Captain looked at him.

“She has money of her own, hasn’t she?” inquired Mr. Keith.  “I have been told she was left an independent fortune by her father.”

There was another interval of silence.  The partners were quite aware of the general belief in Mary-’Gusta’s independent fortune.  They had not discouraged that belief.  It was no one’s business but theirs and their respect and affection for Marcellus Hall had prevented the disclosure of the latter’s poverty.  That secret not even Mary-’Gusta knew; she, too, believed that the money which paid for her clothes and board and all the rest was her own.  Her uncles had helped her to think so.

So when their visitor asked the pointed question Zoeth looked at Shadrach and the latter shook his head.

“Yup,” he answered, brusquely, “it’s true enough, I cal’late.  Marcellus left her all he had.  But—­but look here, Mr. Keith.  Do I understand you to advise us to send Mary-’Gusta away—­to school—­for two years?  Jumpin’ fire!  How—­how could we?  She—­why, what would we do without her?”

“It would be harder for you here in the store, of course.”

“The store!  ‘Tain’t the store I’m thinkin’ about; it’s me and Zoeth.  What’ll we do without her?  Why, she—­why, no daughter could mean more to us than that girl does, and if Zoeth and me was her own—­er—­mother and father we couldn’t think more of her.  We’d be adrift and out of sight of land if Mary-’Gusta went away.  No, no, we couldn’t think of such a thing.”

“Not even for her sake?  She’s worth a pretty big sacrifice, a girl like that.”

A long discussion followed, a discussion interrupted by the arrival of occasional customers but resumed as soon as each of these individuals departed.  Zoeth asked a question.

“This—­this Miss—­er—­What’s-her-name’s school you’re talkin’ about,” he asked, “a reg’lar boardin’ school, is it?”

“Yes, but there are day pupils.  It was my idea, provided you two were willing to listen to my suggestion at all, to suggest that Mary attend as a day pupil.  She might live near the school instead of at it.  That would be much less expensive.”

“Um-hm,” mused Shadrach, “but—­but she’d have to live somewheres, and I for one would want to be mighty particular what sort of a place she lived at.”