“No; no, indeed, I am quite serious.  Second, the air about here is—­ah—­good and—­and fresh?”

“Good!  Well, considerin’ that most of it is blown over three or four thousand miles of salt water before it gets here it ought to be fairly good, I should say.  As to its bein’ fresh—­well, if you were here when a February no’theaster was blowin’ I’m afraid you might find it a little too fresh.”

“That is satisfactory, that is very satisfactory indeed.  Now what was the third thing the doctor said I must have?  Oh, yes, people.  And I know there are people here because I have met them.  And very nice people, indeed. . . .  Oh, this is very satisfactory, Miss Phipps.  Now my conscience is quite clear concerning my promise to the doctor and I can go on to my proposal to you.”

“Your—­your what?”

“My proposal—­the—­ah—­proposition I want to make you, Miss Phipps.  And I do hope you will consider it favorably.  You see, I like East Wellmouth very much.  My doctor told me I must go where I could find fresh air, rest, and people.  They are all here in East Wellmouth.  And he said I must have exercise, and behold my daily walks to that most interesting old cemetery of yours.  Now, you have been very kind to me already, Miss Phipps; could you be still more kind?  Would you—­ah—­could you let me continue our present arrangement indefinitely—­for a few months, let us say?  Might I be permitted to board here with you until—­well, until spring, perhaps?”

Martha Phipps leaned back in her chair.  She regarded him keenly.

“Mr. Bangs,” she said, slowly, “has some one been tellin’ you that I needed money and are you makin’ me this offer out of—­well, out of charity?”

Galusha jumped violently.  He turned quite pale.

“Oh, dear, dear, dear!” he cried, in a great agitation.  “Oh, dear me, dear me!  No, indeed, Miss Phipps!  I am very sorry you should so misunderstand me.  I—­I—­ Of course I know nothing of your money affairs, nor should I presume to—­to—­ Oh, I—­I—­ Oh, dear!”

His distress was so keen that she was obliged to recognize it.

“All right, all right, Mr. Bangs,” she said.  “It wasn’t charity, I can see that.  But what was it?  Do I understand you to say that you like—­actually like this lonesome place well enough to want to stay here all winter?”

“Yes—­ah—­yes.  And it doesn’t seem lonesome to me.”

“Doesn’t it?  Well, wait a little while. . . .  And you really mean you want to keep on boardin’ here—­with me, with us?”

“Yes, if—­if you will be so very kind as to permit me to do so.  If you will be so good.”

“Good!  To what?  My soul and body!”

“No—­ah—­good to mine,” said Galusha.

CHAPTER VI

It was not settled that evening.  Martha declared she must have at least a few hours in which to think it over and Galusha, of course, agreed.