“Where’s that second mate of mine?” whispered the captain, anxiously.  When told that Georgie was in the kitchen with Imogene he sighed in relief.

“Good!” he said.  “Hide those things as quick as ever you can, afore he lays eyes on ’em.  He’s sharper’n a sail needle, that young one is, and if he can’t see through brown paper he can guess through it, I bet you.  Take em away and put ’em out of sight—­quick.”

Emily hurried upstairs with the packages.  Captain Obed turned to Thankful.

“How is she these days?” he asked, with a jerk of the head in the direction taken by Miss Howes.

“She’s pretty well, or she says she is.  I ain’t so sure myself.  I’m afraid she thinks about—­about him more than she makes believe.  I’m afraid matters between them two had gone farther’n we guessed.”

Captain Obed nodded.  “Shouldn’t wonder,” he said.  “John looks pretty peaked, too.  I saw him just now.”

“You did?  John Kendrick?  He’s been out of town for a week or two, so I heard.  Where did you see him?”

“At the Centre depot.  I was up to the Centre—­er—­buyin’ a few things and he got off the noon train.”

“Did you speak to him?”

“Yes, or he spoke to me.  He and I ain’t said much to each other—­what little we’ve seen of each other lately—­but that’s been his fault more’n ’twas mine.  He sung out to me this time, though, and I went over to the platform.  Say,” after a moment’s hesitation, “there’s another thing I want to ask you.  How’s Heman Daniels actin’ since Emily come?  Seems more’n extry happy, does he?”

“Why—­why, no.  He’s been away, too, a good deal; on business, he said.”

“Humph!  He and—­er—­Emily haven’t been extra thick, then?”

“No.  Come to think of it they’ve hardly seen each other.  Emily has acted sort of—­sort of queer about him, too.  She didn’t seem to want to talk about him more’n she has about John.”

“Humph!  That’s funny.  I can’t make it out.  You see Heman got on that same train John got off.  He was comin’ along the depot platform just as I got to it.  And the depot-master sung out to him.”

“The depot-master?  Eben Foster, you mean?”

“Yup.  He sung out, ‘Congratulations, Heman,’ says he.”

“‘What you congratulatin’ him for?’ says I.

“‘Ain’t you heard?’ says he.  ’He’s engaged to be married’.”

Thankful uttered an exclamation.

“Engaged!” she repeated.  “Mr. Daniels engaged—­to be married?”

“So Eben said.  I wanted to ask a million questions, of course, but John Kendrick was right alongside me and I couldn’t.  John must have heard it, too, and it did seem to me that he looked pretty well shook up, but he wa’n’t any more shook than I was.  I thought—­Well, you see, I thought—­”

Thankful knew what he had thought.  She also was “shaken up.”

“I don’t believe it,” she cried.  “If—­if—­it can’t he her.  Why, she would have told me, I’m sure.  Obed, you don’t think—­”