The ruse was a little too patent and amused Alan , although he carefully hid his amusement and treated Isabel with the fine unvarying deference which his mother had engrained into him for womanhood -- a deference that flattered Isabel even while it annoyed her with the sense of a barrier which she could not break down or pass . She was the daughter of the richest man in Rexton and inclined to give herself airs on that account , but Alan 's gentle indifference always brought home to her an unwelcome feeling of inferiority . `` You 've been tiring yourself out again tramping that lake shore , I suppose , '' said Mrs. Danby , who had kept house for three bachelor ministers and consequently felt entitled to hector them in a somewhat maternal fashion . `` Not tiring myself -- resting and refreshing myself rather , '' smiled Alan . `` I was tired when I went out but now I feel like a strong man rejoicing to run a race . By the way , Mrs. Danby , who lives in that quaint old house away down at the very shore ? I never knew of its existence before . '' Alan 's `` by the way '' was not quite so indifferent as he tried to make it . Isabel King , leaning back posingly among the cushions of the lounge , sat quickly up as he asked his question . `` Dear me , you do n't mean to say you 've never heard of Captain Anthony -- Captain Anthony Oliver ? '' said Mrs. Danby . `` He lives down there at Four Winds , as they call it -- he and his daughter and an old cousin . '' Isabel King bent forward , her brown eyes on Alan 's face . `` Did you see Lynde Oliver ? '' she asked with suppressed eagerness . Alan ignored the question -- perhaps he did not hear it . `` Have they lived there long ? '' he asked . `` For eighteen years , '' said Mrs. Danby placidly . `` It 's funny you have n't heard them mentioned .
But people do n't talk much about the Captain now -- he 's an old story -- and of course they never go anywhere , not even XXXXX church .
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