"Oh, she was, eh?"
"Yes. Oh, yes. She likes you very much. We talk about you almost every time I call—I mean when we are together, you know. Well, good-by. I'm coming for another talk—and soon, too. May I?"
"Hope you do, son. Come aboard any day. The gangplank is always down for you."
Which was all right, except that as Sears watched his caller swinging buoyantly to the gate, the same unreasonable twinge came back to him, bringing with it the keen sense of depression and discouragement, the realization of his approaching middle age and his crippled condition. It did not last long, he would not permit it to linger, but it was acute while it lasted.
He heard a great deal concerning the approaching production of "Down by the Sea" as the weeks passed and the time for that production drew nearer. As he and Elizabeth worked and took counsel together concerning the affairs of the Fair Harbor they spoke of it. She was enjoying the rehearsals hugely and the captain gathered that they furnished the opportunity for change of thought and relaxation which she had greatly needed. They spoke of George Kent, also; Sears saw to that. He brought the young man's name into their conversation at frequent intervals and took pains to praise him highly and to declare repeatedly his liking for him. All part of his own self-imposed penance, of course. And Elizabeth seemed to enjoy these conversations and agreed with him that George was "a nice boy" and likely to succeed in life.
"I'm so glad you like him, Cap'n Kendrick," she said. "He likes you so much and is so sure that you are a wise man."
Sears turned to look at her.
"Sure that I'm what?" he demanded.
"A wise man. He says that, next to Judge Knowles, he had rather have your opinion than any one else in Bayport."
The captain shook his head. "Dear, dear!" he sighed. "And just as I had come to the conclusion that George was so smart. Me a wise man? Me! Tut, tut! George, you disappoint me."