which distinguishes the freemasonry of the
house of Joseph. "He is as nice as his ears, Mrs. Doctor, dear," said
Susan, when he had gone. He had told Susan that he had never tasted
anything like her strawberry shortcake and Susan's susceptible heart
was his forever.

"He has got a way with him." she reflected, as she cleared up the
relics of the supper. "It is real queer he is not married, for a man
like that could have anybody for the asking. Well, maybe he is like
me, and has not met the right one yet."

Susan really grew quite romantic in her musings as she washed the
supper dishes.

Two nights later Anne took Owen Ford down to Four Winds Point to
introduce him to Captain Jim. The clover fields along the harbor shore
were whitening in the western wind, and Captain Jim had one of his
finest sunsets on exhibition. He himself had just returned from a trip
over the harbor.

"I had to go over and tell Henry Pollack he was dying. Everybody else
was afraid to tell him. They expected he'd take on turrible, for he's
been dreadful determined to live, and been making no end of plans for
the fall. His wife thought he oughter be told and that I'd be the best
one to break it to him that he couldn't get better. Henry and me are
old cronies--we sailed in the Gray Gull for years together. Well, I
went over and sat down by Henry's bed and I says to him, says I, jest
right out plain and simple, for if a thing's got to be told it may as
well be told first as last, says I, 'Mate, I reckon you've got your
sailing orders this time,' I was sorter quaking inside, for it's an
awful thing to have to tell a man who hain't any idea he's dying that
he is. But lo and behold, Mistress Blythe, Henry looks up at me, with
those bright old black eyes of his in his wizened face and says, says
he, 'Tell me something I don't know, Jim Boyd, if you want to give me
information. I've known THAT for a week.' I was too astonished to
speak, and Henry, he chuckled. 'To see you coming in here,' says he,
'with your face as solemn as a tombstone and sitting down there with
your hands clasped over your stomach, and passing me out a blue-mouldy
old item of news like that! It'd make a cat laugh, Jim Boyd,' says he.
'Who told you?' says I, stupid like. 'Nobody,' says he. 'A week ago
Tuesday night I was lying here awake--and I jest knew. I'd suspicioned
it before, but then I KNEW. I've been keeping up for the wife's sake.
And I'd LIKE to have