re they were greeted at the door by Mrs.
Winslow, whom Bobby thought nice and motherly, and whom he loved at
once; and by a white-haired old gentleman and old lady who Bobby learned
were Edward's grandparents.

Bobby was made quite dizzy by much talking and by innumerable questions
that he was called upon to answer, and when Mrs. Winslow and the
white-haired old lady cried at the story of Skipper Ed, and the old
gentleman repeated over and over again: "Is it possible! Is it possible!
My poor Edward! My long lost boy!" he almost cried himself, though he
could see nothing to cry about, really, except Jimmy's supposed death.

And then came wonderful days while Bobby watched the marvelous
blossoming of the trees in the garden, and as they were transformed into
masses of pink and white, and flower beds became spots of glowing color,
he believed a miracle had been performed before his very eyes--as,
indeed, one had. And there were times when he believed he must be
dreaming, and not living in the world at all, and then he would pinch
himself to make certain he was really alive and awake, and that he had
not perished on the ice after all and awakened in Paradise.

But in his room of nights when the lights were out and he was alone and
all was still, he had many sleepless and homesick hours. Then it was he
longed for the old times again in the cozy cabins, and for Abel
Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, and Skipper Ed and Jimmy, and felt that he
would give all the world to have them back.

And so the weeks passed until the lengthening days of June were well
advanced, and Mr. Winslow announced that he had chartered a small
auxiliary schooner and that she was ready for the northern voyage, and
then for two nights before their departure for St. John's, where the
schooner was in waiting, Bobby could scarcely sleep at all, so eager was
he to return home to Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, that they might know
he still lived, for he often thought of them there in the cabin, very
lonely without him.

One day late in June Mr. and Mrs. Winslow, with Edward Norman and Bobby,
went down to Boston, where they boarded their steamer, and immediately
the lines were thrown off and the steamer had turned her prow seaward,
Bobby nearly shouted with joy, and every throb of the steamer's engine,
and every turn of the propeller, brought fresh delight to his heart,
for they were beating away the miles that separated him from home.

In Halifax there was a day