Emily rubbed away a smile with her handkerchief. Heman noticed her action, and his color brightened.
“They WERE public,” he said, rather sharply. “They were men of standing—long standing in the community. Prominent and prosperous citizens, who have lived here long enough for East Wellmouth to know them—and respect them.”
This was a shot in the bull's eye. Miss Timpson evidently thought so, for she nodded approval. Daniels continued.
“They were men of known worth,” he went on. “Practical citizens whose past as well as present is known. Your cousin—I believe he is your cousin, Kendrick, although he did not mention the relationship—was grateful to me for giving him their names. He is a practical man, himself.”
John nodded. “He must be,” he admitted. “No one but a practical man could get all that advice, free, from a lawyer.”
Captain Obed laughed aloud.
“That's a good one,” he declared. “Lawyers ain't in the habit of GIVIN' much, 'cordin' to all accounts. How about it, Heman?”
Mr. Daniels ignored the question and the questioner. He rose to his feet.
“There are SOME lawyers,” he observed, crisply, “whose advice is not asked—to any great extent. I—I think I will join the group on the beach. It's a beautiful evening. Won't you accompany me, Miss Howes?”
Emily declined the invitation. “No, thank you, Mr. Daniels,” she said. “I am rather tired and I think I won't go out tonight. By the way, Mr. Kendrick,” she added, “was the great man asking your advice also? I happened to see him go into your office yesterday.”