d written to say that he
and his sister-in-law were soon to be together as they used to be. That
meant that there had been no quarrel, but merely a temporary
separation. That she and he were still friendly. That they had been in
correspondence and that the "inventor" was coming back to take his
old place as autocrat in the household with all his old influence
over Emeline. Seth's new-found courage and manhood had vanished at the
thought. Bennie D.'s name had scarcely been mentioned during the various
interviews between the lightkeeper and his wife. She had said her first
husband's brother had been in New York for two years, and her manner of
saying it led Seth to imagine a permanent separation following some sort
of disagreement. And now! and now! He remembered Bennie D.'s superior
airs, his polite sneers, his way of turning every trick to his advantage
and of perverting and misrepresenting his, Seth's, most innocent speech
and action into crimes of the first magnitude. He remembered the meaning
of those last few months in the Cape Ann homestead. All his
fiery determination to be what he had once been--Seth Bascom, the
self-respecting man and husband--collapsed and vanished. He groaned in
abject surrender. He could not go through it again; he was afraid. Of
any other person on earth he would not have been, but the unexpected
resurrection of Bennie D. made him a hesitating coward. Therefore he was
silent when his wife left him, and he realized that his opportunity was
gone, gone forever.

In utter misery and self-hatred he sat, with his head in his hands,
beside the kitchen table until eleven o'clock. Then he rose, got dinner,
and called Brown to eat it. He ate nothing himself, saying that he'd
lost his appetite somehow or other. After the meal he harnessed Joshua
to the little wagon and started on his drive to Eastboro. "I'll be back
early, I cal'late," were his last words as he drove out of the yard.

After he had gone, and Brown had finished clearing away and the
other housekeeping tasks which were now such a burden, the substitute
assistant went out to sit on the bench and smoke. The threatened
easterly wind had begun to blow, and the sky was dark with tumbling
clouds. The young man paid little attention to the weather, however. All
skies were gloomy so far as he was concerned, and the darkest day was no
blacker than his thoughts. Occasionally he glanced at the bungalow,
and on one such occasion was surprised to see