“Think!  John Kendrick, I think I ought to get down on my knees and beg your pardon for what I’ve thought these last two months.  But I’m thinkin’ right now and you ain’t.  Heman Daniels ain’t engaged to Emily Howes at all; he’s engaged to that Bayport woman, the one he’s been so attentive to for a year or more.  Oh, it’s true!  Winnie S. told me so just now.  The news had just come to town and he was full of it.  Heman’s over to Bayport spendin’ Christmas with her this very minute.”

Even Captain Obed had not a word to say.  He was looking at John Kendrick and John’s face was white.

“And I’ll tell you somethin’ else,” went on Thankful, “somethin’ that Emily herself told me last night.  She might have been engaged to Heman Daniels; he asked her to be.  But she wouldn’t have him; she told him no.”

John stepped from behind the desk.  “She—­she told him no,” he repeated.  “She . . .  Why?”

Thankful laughed aloud.  “That,” she cried, “I shan’t tell you.  If you don’t know yourself then I ain’t the one to tell you.”

Obed was at her side.  “That’s enough,” he ordered, taking her by the arm.  “That’s enough, Thankful Barnes.  You come right along with me and fetch that deed with you.  This young feller here has got some thinkin’ to do, I cal’late.  His mind needs overhaulin’.  You come with me.”

He led her out to the sidewalk and on until they reached the postoffice.  Then, still grasping her arm, he led her into that building.  The office was open for a few hours, even though the day was Christmas.

“Here!” he whispered, eagerly.  “Stand here by the window where we can see whether he comes out or not.”

“But, Obed, what are you doin’?”

“Doin’!  I’m waitin’ to see whether that boy is a permanent fool or just a temporary one.  Wait now; wait and watch.”

The wait was but momentary.  The door of John Kendrick’s office opened and John himself came out.  He shut the door, but he did not wait to lock it.  They saw him cross the road and stride off down the lane toward the shore.

Captain Obed laughed aloud.

“No,” he cried, exultantly, “’twas only temporary.  He’s got his senses now.  Thankful, let’s you and me go for a walk.  We shan’t be needed at the High Cliff House for a spell—­and we won’t be wanted there, either.”

CHAPTER XVIII

The walk was a long one.  It took them a good way from the more populous section of East Wellmouth, over the hills and, at last, along the beach at the foot of the bluff.  It was an odd season of the year for a stroll by the seaside, but neither Thankful nor the captain cared for that.  In fact it is doubtful if either could have told afterward just where they had been.  There were so many and such wonderful things to tell, to speculate upon, and to discuss.

Thankful told of her brother’s return, of Mr. Cobb’s miraculous generosity, and, for the first time, of the ghostly haunting of the little back bedroom.  In the latter story Captain Obed seemed to find much amusement.  He was skeptical.