Captain Obed, like every citizen of East Wellmouth, was disgusted with the weather.  “I was cal’latin’ to put in my spare time down to the shanty buildin’ a new dory,” he said, “but I guess now I’ll build an ark instead.  If this downpour keeps on I’ll need one bad as Noah ever did.”

Heman Daniels, Miss Timpson and Caleb Hammond were now the only boarders and roomers Mrs. Barnes had left to provide for.  There was little or no profit in providing for them, for the rates paid by the two last named were not high, and their demands were at times almost unreasonable.  Miss Timpson had a new idea now, that of giving up the room she had occupied since coming to the Barnes boarding-house and moving her belongings into the suite at the rear of the second floor, that comprising the large room and the little back bedroom adjoining, the latter the scene of Thankful’s spooky adventure on the first night of her arrival in East Wellmouth.  These rooms ordinarily rented for much more than Miss Timpson had paid for her former apartment, but she had no thought of paying more for them.  “Of course I shouldn’t expect to get ’em for the same if ’twas summer,” she explained to Thankful, “but just now, with ’em standin’ empty, I might as well move there as not.  I know you’ll be glad to have me, won’t you, Mrs. Barnes, you and me being such good friends by this time.”

And Thankful, although conscious of an injustice somewhere, did not like to refuse her “good friend.”  So she consented and Miss Timpson moved into the back rooms.  But she no sooner had her trunks carried there than she was struck by another brilliant idea.  Thankful, hearing unusual sounds from above that Saturday morning, ascended the back stairs to find the school mistress tugging at the bureau, which she was apparently trying to drag from the small room into the larger.

“It came to me all of a sudden,” panted Miss Timpson, who was out of breath but enthusiastic.  “That little room’s awful small and stuffy to sleep in, and I do hate to sleep in a stuffy room.  But when I was standing there sniffing and looking it came to me.”

“What came to you?” demanded the puzzled Thankful.  “What are you talkin’ about—­the bureau?”

“No, no!  The idea!  The bureau couldn’t come to me by itself, could it?  No, the idea came to me.  That little room isn’t good for much as a bedroom, but it will make the loveliest study.  I can put my table and my books in there and move the bed and things in here.  Then I’ll have a beautiful, nice big bedroom and the cutest little study.  And I’ve always wanted a study.  Now if you and Imogene help me with the bureau and bed it’ll be all fixed.”

So Imogene, assisted by Kenelm, who was drafted in Thankful’s place, spent a good part of the afternoon shifting furniture and arranging the bedroom and the “study.”  Miss Timpson superintended, and as she was seldom satisfied until each separate item of the suite’s equipment had been changed about at least twice, in order to get the “effect,” all three were nervous and tired when the shifting was over.  Miss Timpson should have been happy over the attainment of the study, but instead she appeared gloomy and downcast.