“Did you meet anyone you knew?” asked Emily.

“No’m.  We saw quite a lot of folks from East Wellmouth, but we saw ’em first, so we didn’t meet ’em.  One kind of funny thing happened:  a man who was outside a snake tent, hollerin’ for everybody to come in, saw us and he says to me:  ‘Girlie,’ he says—­he was a fresh guy like all them kind—­’Girlie,’ he says, ’ask your pa to take you in and see the Serpent King eat ’em alive.  Only ten cents, Pop,’ he says to Kenelm.  ’Don’t miss the chance to give your little girl a treat.’  Kenelm was all frothed up at bein’ took for my father, but I told him he needn’t get mad—­if I could stand it he could, I guessed.”

Kenelm reported for work as usual on Monday morning and he worked—­actually worked all day.  For an accepted lover he appeared rather subdued and silent.  Captain Obed, who noticed his behavior, commented upon it.

“Cal’late Kenelm’s beginnin’ to realize gettin’ engaged don’t mean all joy,” he said, with a chuckle.  “He’s just got two bosses instead of one, that’s all.  He’s scart to death of Hannah at home and when he’s here Imogene orders him ’round the way a bucko mate used to order a roustabout.  I said Hannah was in a clove hitch, didn’t I?  Well, she is, but Kenelm—­well, Kenelm’s like a young one runnin’ ‘tiddly’ on thin ice—­worse’n that, ’cause he can’t stop on either side, got to keep runnin’ between ’em and look out and not fall in.”

Labor Day, the day upon which the Cape summer season really ends, did not, to the High Cliff House, mean the general exodus which it means to most of the Cape hotels.  Some of Thankful’s lodgers left, of course, but many stayed, and were planning to stay through September if the weather continued pleasant.  But on the Saturday following Labor Day it rained.  And the next day it rained harder, and on Monday began a series of cold, windy, gloomy days which threatened to last indefinitely.  One after the other the sojourners from the cities passed from grumbling at the weather to trunk-packing and leaving.  A few stayed on into the next week but when, at the end of that week, a storm set in which was more severe than those preceding it, even these optimists surrendered.  Before that third week was over the High Cliff House was practically deserted.  Except for Heman Daniels and John Kendrick and Miss Timpson and Caleb Hammond, Thankful and Emily and Imogene were alone in the big house.

This upsetting of her plans and hopes worried Thankful not a little.  Emily, too, was troubled concerning her cousin’s business outlook.  The High Cliff House had been a success during its first season, but it needed the expected September and early October income to make it a success financially.  The expense had been great, much greater than Thankful had expected or planned.  It is true that the boarders, almost without exception, had re-engaged rooms and board for the following summer, but summer was a long way off.  There was the winter to be lived through and if, as they had hoped, additions and enlargements to the establishment were to be made in the spring, more, a good deal more money, would be needed.