fely married."

"That is awful," murmured the old woman, casting another glance back
at the girl and wondering why Eunez Pareta scowled so hatefully
after them.

Following service, as usual, there was social intercourse on the
steps of the church and at the horse sheds back of it. Particularly
did the women gather about Aunt Prudence and Sheila. As for the men,
both young and old, the newcomer's city ways and unmistakable beauty
gave them much to gossip about. Several of the younger masculine
members of Elder Minnett's congregation came almost to blows over
the settlement of who should take the fly cloth off Queenie, back
her around, and lead her out to the front of the church when the
time came to drive back to the Head.

In addition, Cap'n Ira found himself as popular with the young men
as he was wont to be in the old days when he was making up his crew
at the port for the _Susan Gatskill_.

"Prudence," he said to his wife, but quite loud enough for the girl
to hear as they drove sedately homeward, "I cal'late I shall have to
buy me some shot and powder and load up the old gun I put away in
the attic, thinking I wouldn't never go hunting no more."

"Goodness gracious gallop!" ejaculated his wife. "What for? I
cal'late you _won't_ go hunting at your time of life!"

"I dunno. I may be forced to load it up for protection. But maybe
rock salt will do instead of shot," said Cap'n Ira, still with
soberness. "A feller has got a right to protect himself and his
family."

"Against what, I want to know?"

"I can see the Ball place is about to be overrun with a passel of
young sculpins that are going to be more annoying than a dose of
snuff in your eye. That's right."

"Why, how you talk!"

"Didn't ye see 'em all standing around as we drove away from the
church, casting sheep's eyes? And they're hating each other already
like a hen hates dishwater. I swan!"

"For the land's sake!"

"No. For Ida May's sake," chuckled Cap'n Ira. "That's who I've got
to defend with a shotgun."

The girl flushed rosily, but she laughed, too.

"You can leave them to me, Uncle Ira. I shall know how to get rid of
them."

"Maybe they won't come," said Prudence.

"They won't? I swan!" snorted her husband. "They all see she's
more'n half Honey. Couldn't keep 'em away any more than you can
flies."

It was quite as Cap'n Ira prophesied. The path from Big Wreck Cove
across the fields to the Head, a path which had become grass-grown