“I sartin’ hope he won’t, but it seems sometimes as if he permitted some mighty mean things, ‘cordin’ to our way of lookin’ at ’em.  That light’s still burnin’,” she added, peering out into the hall.  “Well, I suppose I ought to pity Solomon, but I don’t when I think how he’s treated me.  If the ghost—­or whatever ’tis in there—­weeded out the rest of his whiskers for him I don’t know’s I’d care.  ’Twould serve him right, I guess.”

They rehung Georgie’s stocking—­bulging and knobby it was now—­and arranged his more bulky presents beneath it on the floor.  Then Thankful went into the kitchen and Emily accompanied her.  The morning broke, pale and gray.  The wind had subsided and it no longer rained.  With the returning daylight Emily’s courage began to revive.

“I can’t understand,” she said, “how you and I could have been so childish last night.  We should have insisted on calling to Mr. Cobb and then we should have found out what it was that frightened him and us.  I mean to go over every inch of those two rooms before dinner time.”

Thankful nodded.  “I’ll do it with you,” she said.  “But I’ve been over ’em so many times that I’m pretty skeptical.  The time to go over ’em is in the night when that—­that snorin’ is goin’ on.  A ghost that snores ought, by rights, to be one that’s asleep, and a sound-asleep ghost ought to be easy to locate.  Oh, yes!  I can make fun now.  I told you I was as brave as a lion—­in the daytime.”

It was easy to talk now, and they drifted into a discussion of many things.  Thankful retold the story of her struggle to keep the High Cliff House afloat, told it all, her hopes, her fears and her discouragements.  They spoke of Captain Bangs, of his advice and help and friendship.  Emily brought the captain into the conversation and kept him there.  Thankful said little concerning him, and of the one surprising, intimate interview between Captain Obed and herself she said not a word.  She it was who first mentioned John Kendrick’s name.  Emily was at first disinclined to speak of the young lawyer, but, little by little, as her cousin hinted and questioned, she said more and more.  Thankful learned what she wished to learn, and it was what she had suspected.  She learned something else, too, something which concerned another citizen of East Wellmouth.

“I knew it!” she cried.  “I didn’t believe ’twas so, and I as much as told Cap’n Obed ’twasn’t this very day—­no, yesterday, I mean.  When a body don’t go to bed at all the days kind of run into one another.”

“What did you know?” asked Emily.  “What were you and Captain Obed talking of that concerned me?”

“Nothin’, nothin’, dear.  It didn’t concern you one bit, and ’twasn’t important. . . .  Hi hum!” rising and looking out of the window.  “It’s gettin’ brighter fast now.  Looks as if we might have a pleasant Christmas, after all.  Wonder how poor Jedediah’ll feel when he wakes up.  I hope he slept warm anyhow.  I piled on comforters and quilts enough to smother him.”