“All right,” he whispered, hastily, “all right. I guess perhaps you're correct in hangin' on. Still, a thousand is a lot of money, even after you take out my little commission. But you know best. You put your trust in me. I'll keep her jumpin'. I understand. Good-by.” He went out hurriedly, and, though I shouted after him, he only waved and ducked behind a beach-plum bush. He did not believe me serious in my refusal to sell; neither did Dean, or Colton, or, apparently, any one else. They all thought me merely shrewd, a sharp trader driving a hard bargain, as they would have done in my place. They might think so, if they wished; I should not explain. As a matter of fact, I could not have explained my attitude, even to myself. Yet this very attitude made a difference, a perceptible difference, in my position in Denboro. I noticed it each time I went up to the village. I saw the groups at the post-office and at the depot turn to watch me as I approached and as I went away. Captain Jedediah did not mention the Lane again--at least for some time--but he always hailed me cordially when we met and seemed anxious to be seen in my company. Eldredge, of course, was effusive; so was Alvin Baker. And other people, citizens of consequence in the town, who had heretofore merely bowed, now stopped to speak with me on the street. Members of the sewing circle called on Mother more frequently, and Matilda Dean, Captain Jed's wife, came regularly once a week. Sometimes she saw Mother and sometimes she did not, depending upon Dorinda's state of mind at the time. Lute, always a sort of social barometer, noticed the change in the weather. “Everybody's talkin' about you, Ros,” he declared. “They cal'late you're a pretty smart feller. They don't just understand what you're up to, but they think you're pretty smart.” “No?” I commented, ironically. “Lute, you astonish me. Why am I smart?” “Well, they don't know exactly, but they cal'late you must be. Oh, I hear things. Cap'n Jed said t'other night you'd make a pretty good Selectman.” “_I_ would? A Selectman?” “Yup. He as much as hinted that to me; wondered if you'd take the nomination provided he could fix it for you. Sim Eldredge and Alvin and some more all said they'd vote for you if they got a chance. ARE you figgerin' to charge toll on the Lane?” “Toll? What put that idea in your head?” “Nothin', only some of the fellers wondered if you was. You see, you won't sell, and so--” “I see. That's a brilliant suggestion, Lute. When I adopt it I'll appoint you toll-keeper.” “By time! I wish you would. I'd make Thoph Newcomb pay up. He owes me ten cents; bet it one time and never settled.”