Maud was musical, she played well and had a pleasing voice.

Charles' baritone was unusually good.
So on many evenings Captain Sam's front parlor rang with melody, while the captain smoked in the big rocker and listened admiringly and gazed dotingly.

At the moving-picture theater on Wednesday and Saturday evenings Orham nudged and winked when two Hunniwells and a Phillips came down the aisle.

Even at the Congregational church, where Maud sang in the choir, the young bank clerk was beginning to be a fairly constant attendant.

Captain Eri Hedge declared that that settled it.
"When a young feller who ain't been to meetin' for land knows how long," observed Captain Eri, "all of a sudden begins showin' up every Sunday reg'lar as clockwork, you can make up your mind it's owin' to one of two reasons--either he's got religion or a girl.
In this case there ain't any revival in town, so--" And the captain waved his hand.
Jed was not blind and he had seen, perhaps sooner than any one else, the possibilities in the case.