Part 47 (1/2)

”Eh?... Oh, all right, Sarah. You can tell him, if you want to.”

After she had gone he thought the matter over. Surely Mr. Egbert Phillips was a gentleman of ability along certain lines. His sister Sarah was a sensible woman, she was far far from being a susceptible sentimentalist. Yet she was already under the Phillips spell. Either Judge Knowles was right--very, very much right--or he was overwhelmingly wrong. If left to Bayport opinion as a jury there was no question concerning the verdict. Egbert would be triumphantly acquitted.

Sears, however, did not, at this time, spare much thought to the Phillips riddle. He had other, and, it seemed to him, more disturbing matters to deal with. The quarrel between Elizabeth Berry and young Kent was one of those, for he felt that, in a way, he was the cause of it.

George had, of course, behaved like a foolish boy and had been about as tactless as even a jealous youth could be, but there was always the chance that some one else had sowed the seeds of jealousy in his mind.

He determined to see Kent, explain, have a frank and friendly talk, and, if possible, set everything right--everything between the two young people, that is. But when, on his first short walk along the road, he happened to meet Kent, the latter paid no attention to his hail and strode past without speaking. Sears shouted after him, but the shout was unheeded.

Elizabeth was almost as contrary. When he attempted to lead the conversation to George, she would not follow. When he mentioned the young man's name she changed the subject. At last when, his sense of guilt becoming too much for him, he began to defend Kent, she interrupted the defense.

”Cap'n Kendrick,” she said, ”I understand why you take his part. And it is like you to do it. But when you begin to blame yourself or me then I shan't listen.”

”Blame _you_! Why, Elizabeth, I had no idea of blamin' you. The whole thing is just a--a misunderstandin' between you and George, and I want to straighten it out, that's all. If anybody is to blame I really think I am. I should have thought more about--about, what he calls appearances; that is, perhaps I should.”

She lost patience. ”Oh, do stop!” she cried. ”You know you are talking nonsense.”

”Well but, Elizabeth, I feel--wicked. I wouldn't for the world be the cause of a break between you two. If that should happen because of me I couldn't rest easy.”

This conversation took place in the smaller sitting room of the Fair Harbor, the room which she and her mother used as a sort of office. She had been standing by the window looking out. Now she turned and faced him.

”Cap'n Kendrick,” she asked, ”just what do you mean by a 'break' between George Kent and me? Are you under the impression that he and I were--were engaged?”

”Why--why, weren't you?”

”No. Why should you think we were?”

”Well--why, there seemed to be a sort of general idea that--that you were. People--Bayport folks seemed to think--seemed to think----”

She stamped her foot. ”They don't think, most of them, they only talk,”

she declared. ”_I_ certainly never said we were. And he didn't either, did he?”

Kent had said that he and Elizabeth were engaged--practically--whatever that might mean. But the captain thought it wisest just then to forget.

”Why--no, I guess not,” he answered.

”Of course he didn't ... Cap'n Kendrick. I--oh, you might as well understand this clearly. I have known George for a long time. I liked him. For a time I thought--well I thought perhaps I liked him enough to--to like him a lot more But I was mistaken. He--he kept doing things that I didn't like. Oh, they had nothing to do with me. They were things that didn't seem--what you would call square and aboveboard. Little things that.... It was about one of these that we disagreed just before the 'Down by the Sea' theatricals. But he explained that and--and--well, he can be so nice and likable, that I forgave him. But lately there have been others. He has changed. And now all this foolishness, and....

There, Cap'n Kendrick, I didn't mean to say so much. But I want you to understand, and to tell every one else who talks about George Kent and me being engaged, that there never was any such engagement.”

It would be rather difficult to catalogue all of Sears Kendrick's feelings as he listened to this long speech. They were mixed feelings, embarra.s.sment, sorrow, relief--and a most unwarranted and unreasonable joy. But he repressed the relief and joy and characteristically returned to self-chastis.e.m.e.nt.

”Yes--oh--I see,” he faltered. ”I guess likely I didn't understand exactly. But just the same I don't know but George was right in some things he said. I shouldn't wonder if I had been careless about--about appearances. I don't know but--but my seein' you so much--and our goin'

to Orham together might set some folks talkin'. Of course it doesn't seem hardly possible that anybody could be such fools, considerin'

you--and then considerin' me--but----”

She would not hear any more. ”I don't propose to consider _them_,” she declared with fierce indignation. ”I shall see you or any one else just as often as I please. Now that you are to take care of my money for me I have no doubt I shall see you a great deal oftener than I ever did. And if those--those talkative persons don't like it, they may do the next best thing.... No, that is enough, Cap'n Kendrick. It is settled.”

And it did appear to be. If anything, she saw him oftener than before, seemed to take a mischievous delight in being seen with him, in running to the Minot place on errands connected with the Harbor business, and in every way defying the gossips.

And gossip accepted the challenge. From the time when it became known that Sears Kendrick was to be the trustee of Elizabeth Berry's twenty-thousand dollar legacy the tide of public opinion, already on the turn, set more and more strongly against him. And, as it ebbed for Captain Sears, it rose higher and higher for that genteel martyr, Mr.

Egbert Phillips.

Sears could not help noticing the change. It was gradual, but it was marked. He had never had many visitors, but occasionally some of the retired sea dogs among the town-folk would drop in to swap yarns, or a younger captain, home from a voyage, would call on him at the Minot place. The number of those calls became smaller, then they ceased.

Doctor Sheldon was, of course, as jolly and friendly as ever, and Bradley, when he drove over from Orham on a legal errand, made it a point to come and see him. But, aside from those, and Sarah Macomber, and, of course, Elizabeth Berry, no one came.