In fact, she mentioned him less and less in conversation with
her uncle. But, as the autumn came and moved towards its prime she
seemed, to the captain's noticing eye, a trifle more grave, a little
more desirous of being by herself. Sometimes he found her sitting by
the open fire--pleasant in the cool October evenings--and gazing very
soberly at the blaze. She had been in good spirits, more merry and
light-hearted than he had ever seen her, during the latter part of
the summer; now her old sadness seemed to be returning. It would have
troubled him, this change in her mood, if he had not believed he knew
the cause.

He was planning a glorious Thanksgiving. At least, it would be glorious
to him, for he intended spending the day, and several days, at his own
home in South Denboro. Abbie Baker had made him promise to do it, and he
had agreed. He would not leave Caroline, of course; she was going with
him. Steve would be there, though he would not come until Thanksgiving
Day itself. Sylvester, also, would be of the party; he seemed delighted
at the opportunity.

"I'm curious to see the place where they raise fellows like you," the
lawyer said. "It must be worth looking at."

"Graves don't think so," chuckled the captain. "I invited him, and
he said, 'No, thank you' so quick that the words was all telescoped
together. And he shivered, too, when he said it; just as if he felt
that sou'west gale whistlin' between his bones even now. I told him
I'd pretty nigh guarantee that no more trees would fall on him, but it
didn't have any effect."

Pearson was asked and had accepted. His going was so far a settled thing
that he had commissioned Captain Elisha to purchase a stateroom for him
on the Fall River boat; for of course the captain would not consider
their traveling the entire distance by train. At an interview in the
young man's room in the boarding house, only three days before the date
set for the start, he had been almost as enthusiastic as the Cape Codder
himself. The pair had planned several side excursions, time and weather
permitting, among them a trip across the Sound to Setuckit Point, with
the possibility of some late sea-fowl shooting and a long tramp to one
of the life-saving stations, where Pearson hoped to pick up material for
his new book. He was all anticipation and enthusiasm when the captain
left him, and said he would run out to the house the following day, to
make final arrangements.

That day Sylveste