“About half-past five Kenelm got up and looked out of the window.  The rain come spattin’ against the pane and the wind whined and sounded mean.  Kenelm went back to the chair again.  Then he got up and took another observation.  At last he goes back to the chair, stretches himself out, puts his feet against the stove, pulls at the cigar, and says he: 

“‘I was cal’latin’ to go downtown on a bus’ness trip, same’s I did last night.  But I guess,’ he says—­’I guess I won’t.  It’s too comfort’ble here,’ says he.

“And I cal’late,” said Captain Obed, in conclusion, “that afore Hannah turned in that night she gave herself three cheers.  She’d gained a tack on Abbie Larkin that had put Abbie out of the race, for that time, anyhow.”

“But who sent the ‘friend’ letter?” asked Thankful, whose thoughts had been diverted from her own troubles by hearing those of Miss Parker.

The captain laughed.

“That’s a mystery, even yet,” he said.  “I’m pretty sure Hannah thinks ’twas Elvira Paine.  Elvira lives acrost the road from Abbie Larkin and, bein’ a single woman with mighty little hopes of recovery, naturally might be expected to enjoy upsettin’ anybody else’s chance.  But, at any rate, Mrs. Barnes, the whole thing bears out what I said at the beginnin’:  takin’ other folks’ advice about your own affairs is mighty risky.  I hope, if you do go ahead with your boardin’-house plan, it won’t be because I called it a good one.”

Thankful smiled and then sighed.  “No,” she said, “if I go ahead with it it’ll be because I’ve made up my mind to, not on account of anybody else’s advice.  I’ve steered my own course for quite a long spell and I sha’n’t signal for a pilot now.  Well, here we are home again—­or at East Wellmouth anyhow.”

“So we be.  Better come right to Hannah’s along with me, hadn’t you?  You must have had enough of the Holt Waldorf-Astory by this time.”

But Thankful insisted upon going to the hotel and there her new friend—­for she had begun to think of him as that—­left her.  She informed him of her intention to remain in East Wellmouth for another day and a half and he announced his intention of seeing her again before she left.

“Just want to keep an eye on you,” he said.  “With all of Mrs. Holt’s temptin’ meals set afore you you may get gout or somethin’ from overeatin’.  Either that or Winnie S.’ll talk you deef.  I feel a kind of responsibility, bein’ as I’m liable to be your next-door neighbor if that boardin’-house does start up, and I want you to set sail with a clean bill of health.  If you sight a suspicious-lookin’ craft, kind of antique in build, broad in the beam and makin’ heavy weather up the hills—­if you sight that kind of craft beatin’ down in this direction tomorrow you’ll know it’s me.  Good day.”

Thankful lay awake for hours that night, thinking, planning and replanning.  More than once she decided that she had been too hasty, that her scheme involved too great a risk and that, after all, she had better abandon it.  But each time she changed her mind and at last fell asleep determining not to think any more about it, but to wait until Mr. Cobb came to accept or decline the mortgage.  Then she would make a final decision.