"Emily," she began, "I presume likely you'll feel that you'd ought to go back home tomorrow? Yes, I knew you'd feel that way.Well, I ain't goin' with you.I've made up my mind to stay here for a few days longer.Now I'll tell you why.
"You see, Emily," she went on, "my comin' down here to East Wellmouth wa'n't altogether for the fun of lookin' at the heirloom Uncle Abner left me.The first thing I wanted to do was see it, but when I had seen it, and if it turned out to be what I hoped it might be, there was somethin' else.Emily, Mrs.Pearson's dyin'
leaves me without a job.Oh, of course I know I could 'most likely get another chance at nursin' or keepin' house for somebody, but, to tell you the truth, I'm gettin' kind of tired of that sort of thing.Other folks' houses are like other folks' ailments; they don't interest you as much as your own do.I'm sick of askin'
somebody else what they want for dinner; I'd like to get my own dinner, or, at least, if somebody else is to eat with me, I want to decide myself what they'll have to eat.I want to run my own house once more afore I die.And it seems--yes, it seems to me as if here was the chance; nothin' but a chance, and a risky one, but a chance just the same.Emily, I'm thinkin' of fixin' up Uncle Abner's old rattletrap and openin' a boardin'-house for summer folks in it.
"Yes, yes; I know," she continued, noticing the expression on her companion's face."There's as much objection to the plan as there is slack managin' in this hotel, and that's some consider'ble.
Fust off, it'll cost money.Well; I've saved a little money and those cranberry bog shares Mrs.Pearson left me will sell for two thousand at least.That would be enough, maybe, if I wanted to risk it all, but I don't.I've got another scheme.This property of mine down here is free and clear, but, on account of its location and the view, Cap'n Bangs tells me it's worth consider'ble more than I thought it was.I believe--yes, I do believe I could put a mortgage on it for enough to pay for the fixin' over, maybe more."Emily interrupted.
"But, Auntie," she said, "a mortgage is a debt, isn't it? A debt that must be paid.And if you borrow from a stranger--""Just a minute, Emily.Course a mortgage is a debt, but it's a debt on the house and land and, if worse comes to worst, the house and land can go to pay for it.And I don't mean to borrow from a stranger, if I can help it.I've got a relation down here on the Cape, although he's a pretty fur-off, round-the-corner relation, third cousin, or somethin' like that.His name's Solomon Cobb and he lives over to Trumet, about nine mile from here, so Cap'n Bangs says.And he and Uncle Abner used to sail together for years.He was mate aboard the schooner when Uncle Abner died on a v'yage from Charleston home.This Cobb man is a tight-fisted old bachelor, they say, but his milk of human kindness may not be all skimmed.
And, anyhow, he does take mortgages; that's the heft of his business--I got that from the cap'n without tellin' him what Iwanted to know for."
Miss Howes smiled.
"You and Captain Bangs have been putting your heads together, Isee," she said.
"Um--hm.And his head ain't all mush and seeds like a pumpkin, if I'm any judge.The cap'n tells me that east Wellmouth needs a good summer boardin'-house.This--this contraption we're in now is the nighest thing there is to it, and that's as far off as dirt is from soap; you can see that yourself.'Cordin' to Cap'n Bangs, lots and lots of city people would come here summers if there was a respectable, decent place to go to.Now, Emily, why can't I give 'em such a place? Seems to me I can.Anyhow, if I can mortgage the place to Cousin Sol Cobb I think--yes, I'm pretty sure I shall try.Now what do you think? Is your Aunt Thankful Barnes losin'
her sense--always providin' she's ever had any to lose--or is she gettin' to be a real business woman at last?"Emily's reply was at first rather doubtful.She raised one objection after the other, but Mrs.Barnes was always ready with an answer.It was plain that she had looked at her plan from every angle.And, at last, Miss Howes, too, became almost enthusiastic.
"I do believe," she said, "it may turn out to be a splendid thing for you, Auntie.At least, I'm sure you will succeed if anyone can.Oh dear!" wistfully."I only wish it were possible for me to stay here and help with it all.But I can't--I can't.Mother and the children need the money and I must go back to my school."Thankful nodded."Yes," she admitted, "I suppose likely you must, for the present.But--but if it SHOULD be a go and I SHOULD see plainer sailin' ahead, then I'd need somebody to help manage, somebody younger and more up-to-date than I am.And I know mighty well who I shall send for."They talked for a long time, but at last, after they were in bed and the lamp was extinguished, Emily said:
"I hate to go back and leave you here, Auntie; indeed I do.Ishall be so interested and excited I shall scarcely be able to wait for your letters.You will write just as soon as you have seen this Mr.Cobb, won't you?""Yes, sartin sure I will.I know it's goin' to be hard for you to go and leave me, Emily, but I shan't be havin' a Sunday-school picnic, exactly, myself.From what I used to hear about Cousin Solomon, unless he's changed a whole lot since, gettin' a dollar from him won't be as easy as pullin' a spoon out of a kittle of soft-soap.I'll have to do some persuadin', I guess.Wish my tongue was as soothin'-syrupy as that Mr.Badger's is.But I'm goin' to do my best.And if talkin' won't do it I'll--I swear Idon't know as I shan't give him ether.Maybe he'd take THAT if he could get it for nothin'.Good night."
