As a last resort, having now worked out the detail of that plan in her mind, she believed she could save Tunis from much calumny if it became positively necessary for her to depart under this cloud and abandon her place to the real Ida May. The latter must, however, come with positive proof of her identity--evidence sufficient to convince Cap'n Ira and Prudence--before Sheila Macklin would release her grasp upon what she had obtained by trickery and deceit. Not for a moment did the girl try to excuse to herself what she had done. In spite of the Balls' need of her, and in spite of Tunis' love, Sheila did not try to deceive herself with any sophistry about the end justifying the deed. Such thinking could not satisfy her now. Sheila's eyes were opened. She beheld before her both the wide and the narrow way. If she took the pleasanter path, it was with a full knowledge of what she did. Yet would it be the pleasanter path? She doubted this. If she continued to fight for a place which was not hers by right, she must walk for all time in a slippery way. This claim of the real Ida May might be perennial; the girl might return again and again to the attack. For years--as long as the Balls lived and Sheila remained with them--she must be ever on the alert to defend her position with them. And after the good old people died--what then? Their property here on the Head and their money would no more belong to Sheila Macklin than it did now. She shrank in horror from the thought of swindling the real Ida May out of anything which might legally be hers when the Balls were gone. Of course, Cap'n Ira and Prudence could will their property to whom they pleased. Still, Ida May was Prudence's niece! As the day dragged on, Ida May did not appear, but the old folks talked about her continually, until Sheila thought she must cry aloud to them to stop. "The poor thing must be half-witted, of course," Mrs. Ball said ruminatively. "Can't be otherwise. But she must have known something about Sarah Honey and her folks." "Seems likely," agreed Cap'n Ira. "Now, you know, Ira, Sarah was an orphan and I was her mother's only relation--and only that in a kind of a left-handed way, for I wasn't really her aunt. That branch of the Honeys--Sarah's father's folks--had all died out. Sarah lived about--kinder from pillar to post as you might say--till she went to Boston and met Mr. Bostwick. Isn't that so, Ida May?" "Yes. So I understand," agreed the girl faintly. "Now, you don't remember your mother much, Ida May," pursued Prudence confidently. "You was too young when she died. And you being brought up among the Bostwicks, you didn't know much about us down here on the Cape. But don't you remember any neighbor that lived near you there in Boston that had a gal something like this crazy one that come here?" "I swan!" ejaculated Cap'n Ira. "You're coming out strong, old woman, I do say." Sheila could only shake her head.