“If this place is to become really profitable, Auntie,” she insisted, “those changes should be made.  I don’t see why this Mr. Cobb won’t lend you the money; but, if he won’t, then I’m sure someone else will, if you ask.  Don’t you know anyone here in East Wellmouth whom you might ask for a loan—­on your prospects?”

“No.  No, I don’t.”

“Why, yes, you do.  There is Captain Bangs, for instance.  He is well to do, and I’m sure he is a good friend.  Why don’t you ask him?”

Thankful’s answer was prompt and sharp.

“Indeed I shan’t,” she declared.

“Then I will.  I’ll be glad to.”

“Emily Howes, if you say one word to Cap’n Obed about borrowin’ money from him I’ll—­I’ll never speak to you afterwards.  Go to Captain Obed.  The idea!”

“But why not, Auntie?  He is a friend, and—­”

“Of course he is; that’s the very reason.  He is a friend and he’d probably lend it because he is, whether he knew he’d ever get it back or not.  No, when I borrow money it’ll be of somebody that lends it as a business deal, not from friendship.”

“But, Auntie, you went to Mr. Cobb because he was your relative.  You said that was the very reason why you went to him.”

“Um, yes.  Well, I may have gone to him for that reason, but there ain’t any relationship in that mortgage of his; don’t you get the notion that there is.”

Emily’s next question, naturally, concerned the renewal of that mortgage.  Mrs. Barnes said shortly that she guessed the renewal would be all right.

“He’s comin’ over to settle it with me pretty soon,” she added.  “Now don’t worry your head off any more about mortgages and loans, Emily.  You’re goin’ to leave me pretty soon; let’s not spend our last days together frettin’ about money.  That mortgage is all right.  Maybe the extra loan will be, too.  Maybe—­why, maybe Mr. Kendrick would lend it, if I asked him.”

“Mr. Kendrick?  Why, Auntie, Mr. Kendrick has no money, or only a very little.  He is doing well—­very well, considering how short a time he has practised his profession here, but I’m sure he has no money to lend.  Why, he tells me—­”

The expression of Mrs. Barnes’ face must have conveyed a meaning; at any rate Emily’s sentence broke off in the middle.  She colored and seemed embarrassed.

Thankful smiled.  “Yes,” she observed, drily, “I notice he tells you a lot of things—­a whole lot more than he does anybody else.  Generally speakin’, he is about the closest-mouthed young man about his personal affairs that I ever run across.  However, I ain’t jealous, not a mite.  And ‘twa’n’t of him I was speakin’; ’twas his cousin, Mr. E. Holliday Kendrick.  He’s got money enough, I guess.  Maybe he might make a loan on decent security.  He’s a possibility.  I’ll think him over.”