In July, Mrs. Freeman--she had charge of the upper decks in the "Old
Home" and was rated head chambermaid--up and quit, and being as we
couldn't get another capable Cape Codder just then, Peter fetched down
a woman from New York; one that a friend of old Dillaway's recommended.
She was able seaman so far's the work was concerned, but she'd been
good-looking once and couldn't forget it, and she was one of them
clippers that ain't happy unless they've got a man in tow. You know the
kind: pretty nigh old enough to be a coal-barge, but all rigged up with
bunting and frills like a yacht.

Her name was Kelly, Emma Kelly, and she was a widow--whether from choice
or act of Providence I don't know. The other women servants was all down
on her, of course, 'cause she had city ways and a style of wearing
her togs that made their Sunday gowns and bonnets look like distress
signals. But they couldn't deny that she was a driver so far's her work
was concerned. She'd whoop through the hotel like a no'theaster and have
everything done, and done well, by two o'clock in the afternoon. Then
she'd be ready to dress up and go on parade to astonish the natives.

Men--except the boarders, of course--was scarce around Wellmouth Port.
First the Kelly lady begun to flag Cap'n Jonadab and me, but we sheered
off and took to the offing. Jonadab, being a widower, had had his
experience, and I never had the marrying disease and wasn't hankering
to catch it. So Emma had to look for other victims, and the prophet-shop
looked to her like the most likely feeding-ground.

And, would you b'lieve it, them two old critters, Beriah and Eben,
gobbled the bait like sculpins. If she'd been a woman like the kind they
was used to--the Cape kind, I mean--I don't s'pose they'd have paid any
attention to her; but she was diff'rent from anything they'd ever run