far from the Misses Cabot's school. This
cousin--Mrs. Wyeth is her name--is a widow and she hasn't too much
money. She doesn't keep a boarding house exactly, but she has been known
to take a few of what she calls 'paying guests.' She's very Bostonian
and very particular concerning the references and family connections of
those guests, but I think I could manage that. If your niece were placed
in her care she would have a real home and meet only the sort of people
you would wish her to meet."

He might have added that Mrs. Wyeth, being under many obligations,
pecuniary and otherwise, to her wealthy Chicago relative, would need
only a hint from him to give Mary-'Gusta the care and attention of a
parent, a very particular, Boston first-family parent. But, unlike his
present wife, he was not in the habit of referring to his charities, so
he kept this information to himself.

Zoeth sighed. "I declare," he said, "you're mighty kind in all this,
Mr. Keith. I know that you're sartin this goin' away to school would do
Mary-'Gusta a sight of good. But--but I swan I--I can't hardly bear to
think of our lettin' her go away from us."

"I don't wonder at that. Just think it over and we'll have another talk
later."

CHAPTER X

Mr. Keith and the Captain had that later talk--several talks, in
fact--and a week after their first one Captain Shadrach suddenly
announced that he was cal'latin' to run up to Boston just for a day on
business and that Mary-'Gusta had better go along with him for company.
Zoeth could tend store and get along all right until they returned. The
girl was not so certain of the getting along all right, but Mr. Hamilton
as well as the Captain insisted, so she consented at last. The Boston
trip was not exactly a novelty to her--she had visited the city a number
of times during the past few years--but a holiday with Uncle Shad was
always good fun.

They took the early morning train and reached Boston about ten o'clock.
Shadrach's business in the city seemed to be of a rather vague nature
this time. They called at the offices of two or three of his old
friends--ship-chandlers and marine outfitters on Commercial Street and
Atlantic Avenue--and then the Captain, looking at his watch, announced
that it was pretty nigh noontime and he cal'lated they had better
be cruisin' up towards Pinckney Street. "Got an errand up in that
latitude," he added.

Pinckney Street was on the hill in the rear of the Common and