“There are few cottagers and summer people here. But in Harniss there is a large colony. Very nice people, I believe.” “Yes, I have met some of them. But it was not the summer people I meant. I am beginning to know the townspeople and to like some of them. I met that delightful old Captain Warren the other day.” “He is as good as they make.” “Indeed he is. And I had an interview with another captain, Miss Dean's father, yesterday. We had an interesting encounter.” “So I should imagine. Captain Jed! Whew! It MUST have been interesting.” “It was. Oh, we were very fierce at first--at least he was, and I fought for my side as hard as I could. He said Father was a selfish pig for wanting to close the Lane, and I said it was because of its use by the pigs that he wished to close it.” “Ha! ha! How did it end?” “Oh, we agreed to disagree. I respect Captain Dean for his fight; but Father will win, of course. He always does.” “He won't win this time, Miss Colton.” “Why not? Oh, I actually forgot I was talking to the head and front of the opposition. So you think he will not win, Mr. Paine?” “I am sure of it. He cannot close that Lane until I sell it, and I shall not sell.” She regarded me thoughtfully, her chin upon her hand. “It would be odd if he should not, after all,” she said. “He prides himself on having his own way. It would be strange if he should be beaten down here, after winning so often in New York. Your mother told me something of your feeling in the matter, Mr. Paine. Father has offered you a good price for the land, hasn't he?” “He has offered me a dozen times what it is worth.” “Yes. He does not count money when he has set his heart upon anything. And you refused?” “Yes.” “But Nellie Dean says the town also wished to buy and you refused its offer, too.” “Yes.” “You don't seem to care for money, either, Mr. Paine. Are all Cape Cod people so unmercenary? Or is it that you all have money enough--. . . Pardon me. That was impolite. I spoke without thinking.” “Oh, never mind. I am not sensitive--on that point, at least.” “But I do mind. And I am sorry I said it. And I should like to understand. I see why the townspeople do not want the Lane closed. But you have not lived here always. Only a few years, so Miss Dean says. She said, too, that that Mr. Taylor, the cashier, was almost the only intimate friend you have made since you came. Others would like to be friendly, but you will not permit them to be. And, yet for these people, mere acquaintances, you are sacrificing what Father would call a profitable deal.” “Not altogether for them. I can't explain my feeling exactly. I know only that to sell them out and make money--and heaven knows I need money--at their expense seems to me dead wrong.” “Then why don't you sell to THEM?”