The next forenoon he was on hand, bright and early, and he and Kendrick went over to the village on another tour of inspection.  Captain Obed was extremely curious to know whether or not his friend had made up his mind to remain in East Wellmouth, but, as the young man himself did not volunteer the information, the captain asked no questions.  They walked up and down the main road until dinner time.  John said very little, and was evidently thinking hard.  Just before twelve Captain Bangs did ask a question, his first one.

“Well, John,” he said, looking up at the clock in the steeple of the Methodist Church, “it’s about time for us to be thinkin’ about takin’ in cargo.  Where shall we eat this noon?  At the High Cliff again, or do you want to tackle Darius Holt’s?  Course you understand I’m game for ’most anything if you say so, and ’most anything’s what we’re liable to get at that Holt shebang.  I don’t want you to think I’ve got any personal grudge.  When it comes to that I’m—­ho! ho!—­well, I’m a good deal in the frame of mind Kenelm Parker was at the revival meetin’ some year ago.  Kenelm just happened in and took one of the back seats.  The minister—­he was a stranger in town—­was walkin’ up and down the aisles tryin’ to influence the mourners to come forward.  He crept up on Kenelm from behind, when he wa’n’t expected, and says he, ‘Brother,’ he says, ’do you love the Lord?’ Kenelm was some took by surprise and his wits was in the next county, I cal’late.  ‘Why—­why—­’ he stammers.  ’I ain’t got nothin’ ag’in’ Him.’  Ho! ho!  That’s the way I feel about Darius Holt.  I don’t love his hotel, but I ain’t got nothin’ ag’in’ him.  What do you say?”

Kendrick hesitated.

“The Holt board is cheaper, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yup.  It costs less and it’s wuth it.”

“Humph!  Well—­well, I guess we may as well go back to the High Cliff House.”

Captain Obed was much surprised, but he said nothing.

At dinner there was a sprightly air of cheerfulness and desire to please among the boarders.  Everyone talked a good deal and most of the remarks were addressed to Miss Howes, who sat at the foot of the table, opposite her cousin.  Thankful noticed the change and marveled at it.  Dinners had hitherto been rather hurried and silent affairs.  Miss Timpson usually rushed through the meal in order to get back to her school.  Mr. Daniels’ habit was to fidget when Imogene delayed serving a course, to look at his watch and hint concerning important legal business which needed prompt attention.  Caleb Hammond’s conversation too often was confined to a range bordered by rheumatism on the one hand and bronchitis on the other.