Elizabeth smiled, and the minister followed the smile down from her eyes to the corners of her mouth. He made the mental observation 27 that he had never seen a more beautiful face. As she ran lightly up the path, he watched her, unmindful of several pairs of observing eyes focused knowingly in his direction.
When the day was over, and the furniture restored where the greater part belonged, the “Cleaning Bee” gradually broke up. Captain Pott declared to Elizabeth: “It wa’n’t half so bad a day as I cal’lated it would be, and it’s many a year since the old craft has looked so neat and togged up.”
That evening the Captain sat on his back doorstep, smoking his pipe, and thinking. He thought about the transformation wrought by the hand of women inside the house. He heaved a sigh, and thought of Clemmie Pipkin. If she were only able to forget all the past and consent to his oft-repeated proposal, but–––He had thought that all out before, and had brought all his persuasive powers against the citadel of her heart, but to no avail. A new light dawned upon him. Perhaps–––
Mr. McGowan came round the corner of the house. The Captain rose to meet him.
“Mack, how’d you like to go out to the Jennie P. with me? That’s the name of my power-boat out there in the harbor. I thought it might be sort of restful to take a little cruise after this house-cleaning typhoon.”
“That’s a splendid idea, Cap’n. It will seem like old times to get aboard a vessel with you, though it is only a power-boat.”
“And, Mack, if there’s any time I can step in and help you pilot the salvation craft you’ve signed up with, just you let me know. It ain’t likely I’ll be much good to you, but–––”
The two men gripped hands. Little did they know that night as they peacefully sailed round the inlet just what the future was to demand in the way of a fulfilment of that promise.