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.

"Why, see," said Prudence, encouraged by her husband's commendation,
"there might have been a neighbor woman that Sarah--your mother, you
know, Ida May--was close acquainted with. Maybe she used to talk
with this neighbor a good deal about her young days, and how she
lived down here. You know women often gossip that way."

"I'll say they do!" put in Cap'n Ira, ta