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Chapter 1
Katherine Boulby had reached her fiftieth year, and all these years had been spent in single blessedness. It is true that she had not realized the entirety of the perfect calm and peace that abides in the maiden state, for her brother Joseph and she lived together. But Miss Katherine—as she was commonly called in her native town—was of a cheerful disposition and said that she felt she was indeed blessed among women, as she had graciously been endowed with sense enough to choose a free and unfettered life, and the vexations and limitations contingent upon the proximity of one of the male sex, had been mitigated as much as possible for her as her brother was a quiet, fairly pliant man who rarely interfered with her plans for broadening and enriching her mind.

This mental culture was Miss Katherine’s chief aim in life, and it was not a selfish one. She never refused to give abundantly of her knowledge, and ever strove to correct and purify the literary and artistic tastes of her friends. It would be quite [2] impossible to state upon what lines Miss Katherine pursued her mental cultivation, for, like the great geniuses, she was extremely versatile, and in almost every subject she described an avenue which, if followed to the end would lead at last to the goal whither she was bound. As Miss Katherine strayed from one path to another in the great labyrinth of learning, it is very probable that she was inextricably lost and didn’t know it. But she found pleasure and sustenance therein, and never sought to find herself.

Now, it is far from my purpose to represent my heroine as a blue-stocking or as other than a most charming person. Had she pursued her studies methodically and scientifically she might not have been the same delightful woman that she was, but she flitted from romantic prose to didactic poetry and from poetry to astrology, and thence to architecture, history or biology. In Miss Katherine you found a person who possessed a rare instinct concerning hobbies. She never became so abstruse as to be unintelligible to her friends who were not hobbyists. She dealt in interesting and easy generalities.

In fact, Miss Katherine was one of a type the world cannot spare. Of good, sound, common sense she possessed the usual allotment, but in rare, child-like enthusiasm and love of romance she was richly endowed. It is true that at times [3] everything but romantic fancies seemed expelled from her mind, but the complications thus arising were of no moment when all the brightness and zest she infused into life were considered. It was psychologically impossible for Miss Katherine to view the commonplace occurrences of everyday life in the same light as do most of us. She found in a very ordinary event the nucleus of something interesting and romantic. So you see there was nothing of the blue-stocking about my heroine.

There is another matter upon which the reader must be clear. One might think from Miss Katherine’s fervent thankfulness for her single state that she had an aversion to men. Such was the case only in theory. It seemed more fitting for a single woman of artistic temperament to avow a distaste for the society of the coarser sex, but in reality she got along rather better with men than women. As a rule, men are better listeners than women, and Miss Katherine found them more disposed to listen to her latest ideas and freshest aspirations than were women. She did not credit these listeners with ability to understand all she was saying and this incapacity in man was the reason she had never married. She had a susceptible heart, but it would respond only to him who would understand her. She was not at all averse to marriage and kept a vigilant eye upon the horizon that she might catch the first possible [4] glimpse of the romantic figure she confidently expected would one day loom thereon. His appearance was long delayed, and, while Miss Katherine did not mourn because of this, still she wisely considered moving to where she would view a new and broader horizon.

One day she came upon the following advertisement:

“For Rent—Furnished house, property of Captain Peter Shannon; delightful situation, attractive and comfortable house; garden contains very choice plants and shrubs. Apply, W. J. Skinner, Ocean View.”

“There!” exclaimed Miss Katherine to her brother, “isn’t it delightful to find just what we want with so little trouble?”

“How do you know it’s just what we want?” asked Joseph, who had partially consented to his sister’s suggestion that they rent a house near the sea during the spring and summer.

Miss Katherine did not possess any occult power by which she could visualize the property advertised, but she did have a remarkable faculty for reading between lines. It often happened that she found there that which defied every other interpretation, but this was possibly owing to her highly developed imagination. She had so often urged her brother to develop this quality, that [5] now his utter lack of imagination made her reply crisply—

“How do I know? Because my mind has certain qualities that I see yours will never possess, and besides I think a little. Now consider this advertisement with the aid of a very little imagination and common sense. The owner is a sea captain. That is a volume in itself to me. Sailors are very fond of the picturesque, so I should expect Captain Shannon’s house to be delightfully situated, quaint and comfortable. I can’t imagine anyone from whom I’d rather buy property than from such a man as Captain Shannon must be,” concluded Miss Katherine.

“Why don’t he live in it himself, then, if it’s such a fine place?” inquired Joseph with an attempt at sarcasm which was quite beyond him.

“Can he live in a house on the land and sail on the sea at the same time?” demanded his disgusted sister.

“Well, if I had such a place as you say it is I wouldn’t be risking my neck on the sea. I’d stay right there and raise vegetables,” returned Joseph.

Joseph was several years older than his sister and as he had just retired from business with the intention of spending the remainder of his days in peace and calm, he thought it wise not to jeopardize this residue of his life by running counter to any fixed idea of his sister. But in yielding to [6] Miss Katherine’s strong desire to spend the spring and summer near the sea, Joseph was not solely actuated by fear of her displeasure. He thought that a few months of undisturbed gardening would be the purest possible happiness, so readily consented to Miss Katherine’s going to view the place for rent. She went, she saw and she was captivated. Such a view! Such a garden! Nothing could be more delightful.

Ocean View was not far distant from their home, so the day after his sister’s return Joseph set out to see the house for himself. He found Miss Katherine’s praise very just. It was indeed a most pleasant place, and though the garden sadly needed care, that fact, in Joseph’s eyes, did not detract from the desirability of the place. Beneath a very impassive exterior he concealed a tenderness and real passion for flowers and a garden. He had passed his days in his hardware shop among unlovely objects, and had never gratified this one passion, which was still strong. But now Joseph thought of the long spring and summer days spent in the garden, and went in haste to interview the agent.

“Captain Shannon’s place, eh?” said Mr. Skinner. “It used to be a pretty place when the Captain lived there, and I have had good tenants who have kept it up pretty well, but we didn’t rent it [7] last year so it’s grown up rather wild. Would you happen to be fond of flowers, now?”

Upon Joseph’s replying that he was, Mr. Skinner continued:

“Captain Shannon lived there only two years when he took to sea again. I don’t know whether he’s dead or alive, for that’s seven years ago, and I’ve never seen or heard from him since. I send the rent to his bank in New York, but it’s my opinion that he’s gone where he don’t need money, for if he was alive why wouldn’t he come back and spend the rest of his days here? He ain’t a young man by any means, about sixty, I think. But I was going to tell you why I asked if you were fond of flowers. The Captain was crazy about them and kept a record of all his choice plants. That book’s in the library now. Well, when he told me he was going to sea again and asked to rent the place, he said to get a tenant that would look after the plants. It just seemed to me he wanted to stay, but the sea pulled too strong for him and he had to go. But now if you like pottering round in a garden, that’s just the place for you.”

Joseph felt it was but did not express himself too strongly until he had concluded a very good bargain.

To Miss Katherine’s extreme delight Joseph was ready to move to Ocean View without delay. [8] She had drawn from him all the information concerning Captain Shannon that he had obtained from Mr. Skinner. She had immediately jumped to the conclusion that the Captain had been lost at sea. To tell the truth, although she had as tender a heart as woman ever possessed, the owner’s tragic end rather increased her delight in her surroundings. It wasn’t every day one had the opportunity of handling things that had belonged to one for whom fate had destined such a tragic end.

It was towards the books in the library that she felt most reverently. Not for a moment could she forget that these books had been selected, read and loved by Captain Peter Shannon, victim of the cavernous seas. But soon she came to value the books for themselves, for she found them much to her taste. There was nothing in literature that so captivated Miss Katherine as tales of daring on land or sea, and of these the Captain’s library was full.

“Captain Shannon must have been a very interesting man,” she remarked rather sadly to Joseph. “I can tell by his books. His tastes were just like mine,” she added naively.

“Don’t let your mind run on him too much, Katie,” advised Joseph. “It would only lead to disappointment, for he’s most likely drowned or dead, it don’t matter which.”

[9] “I’d try to exercise a little common sense, Joseph Boulby,” returned his sister acidly.

“Why, ain’t I?” asked Joseph. “I don’t see anything unreasonable about warning you not to set your heart upon a dead man. There’s not much chance of a corpse coming to life these days.”

Joseph’s delight in his garden was actually making him facetious.

However strongly Miss Katherine became convinced that, had he lived, there would have been a strong affinity and perhaps something more between Captain Shannon and herself, she did not become depressed. But without doubt there entered into Miss Katherine’s heart a sentiment that she had never experienced before.

In a closet full of rubbish she found a portrait of a seamanly looking, heavily whiskered man. This she rightly conjectured to be a feeble attempt to reproduce on canvas Captain Shannon’s noble countenance. She tastefully framed the portrait and hung it over the books she fancied he had best loved.

Having made an exhaustive examination of the books on the library shelves, Miss Katherine turned her attention to the papers which the table and desk contained. She felt no compunction in doing this, although she rarely meddled with the affairs of others. But to Captain Shannon’s [10] personal papers she felt she had a peculiar right, a sort of spiritual right.

What she found among these papers was of such interest and import that she rushed at once to find her brother.

“Joseph! Joseph Boulby!” she gasped. “You’ll never guess what I’ve found! The log of a schooner! Captain Shannon’s schooner. He was shipwrecked and the schooner was lost but—I’ll read it to you, Joseph: ‘Log of Schooner Fare-thee-well’—isn’t that a fine name—‘Peter Shannon owner and master.

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