rn floor. But
he saw the color creep up over her forehead.

"Send for him--now?" she asked, in a low tone.

"Yes. Now--right off. In time for to-morrow!"

"He could not get here," she whispered.

"Yes, he could. If you send him a telegram with one word in it:
'Come'--and sign it 'Caroline'--he'll be here on to-morrow mornin's
train, or I'll eat my hat and one of Abbie's bonnets hove in. Think you
could, Caroline?"

A moment; then in a whisper, "Yes, Uncle Elisha."

"Hooray! But--but," anxiously, "hold on, Caroline. Tell me truly now.
You ain't doin' this just to please me? You mustn't do that, not for the
world and all. You mustn't send for him on my account. Only just for one
reason--because _you_ want him."

He waited for his answer. Then she looked up, blushing still, but with a
smile trembling on her lips.

"Yes, Uncle Elisha," she said, "because _I_ want him."

* * * * *

The clouds blew away that night, and Thanksgiving day dawned clear
and cold. The gray sea was now blue; the white paint of the houses and
fences glistened in the sun; the groves of pitchpine were brilliant
green blotches spread like rugs here and there on the brown hills. South
Denboro had thrown off its gloomy raiment and was "all dolled up for
Thanksgivin'," so Captain Elisha said.

The captain and Sylvester were leaning on the fence by the gate, looking
up the road and waiting for Dan and the "two-seater" to heave in sight
around the bend. The hired man had harnessed early and driven to the
station at least thirty minutes before train time. Captain Elisha
was responsible for the early start. Steve was coming on that train;
possibly someone else was coming. The captain did not mean they should
find no welcome or vehicle at the station.

The whistle had sounded ten minutes before. It was time for Dan to
appear at the bend.

"I hope to thunder Jim got that telegram," observed the captain for the
twentieth time, at least, since breakfast.

"So do I," replied his friend. "There's no reason why he shouldn't, is
there?"

"No, no sensible one; but I've scared up no less than a couple of
hundred of the other kind. If he shouldn't come--my, my! she'd be
disappointed."

"You wouldn't feel any disappointment yourself, of course," said the
lawyer, with sarcasm.

"Who? Me? Oh, I'd be sorer'n a scalded wharf rat in a barrel of pepper.
But I don't count. There's the real one up there."

He motioned with h