And after supper they paired off and got to talking, the colonel with Mrs. Badger, and Asaph with Mabel. Now, I can just imagine how Ase talked to that poor, unsuspecting young female. He sartin did love an audience, and here was one that didn't know him nor his history, nor nothing. He played the sad and mysterious. You could see that he was a blighted bud, all right. He was a man with a hidden sorrer, and the way he'd sigh and change the subject when it come to embarrassing questions was enough to bring tears to a graven image, let alone a romantic girl just out of boarding school.
Then, after a spell of this, Mabel wanted to be shown the house, so as to see the “sweet, old-fashioned rooms.” And she wanted papa to see 'em, too, so Ase led the way, like the talking man in the dime museum. And the way them Lamonts agonized over every rag mat, and corded bedstead was something past belief. When they was saying good-night—they HAD to stay all night because their own clothes wa'n't dry and those they had on were more picturesque than stylish—Mabel turns to her father and says she:
“Papa, dear,” she says, “I believe that at last we've found the very thing we've been looking for.”
And the colonel said yes, he guessed they had. Next morning they was up early and out enjoying the view; it IS about the best view alongshore, and they had a fit over it. When breakfast was done the Lamonts takes Asaph one side and the colonel says:
“Mr. Blueworthy,” he says, “my daughter and I am very much pleased with the Cape and the Cape people. Some time ago we made up our minds that if we could find the right spot we would build a summer home here. Preferably we wish to purchase a typical, old-time, Colonial homestead and remodel it, retaining, of course, all the original old-fashioned flavor. Cost is not so much the consideration as location and the house itself. We are—ahem!—well, frankly, your place here suits us exactly.”
“We adore it,” says Mabel, emphatic.
“Mr. Blueworthy,” goes on the colonel, “will you sell us your home? I am prepared to pay a liberal price.”
Poor Asaph was kind of throwed on his beam ends, so's to speak. He hemmed and hawed, and finally had to blurt out that he didn't own the place. The Lamonts was astonished. The colonel wanted to know if it belonged to Mrs. Badger.
“Why, no,” says Ase. “The fact is—that is to say—you see—”
And just then the widow opened the kitchen window and called to 'em.