ay to the White Mountains?"

"In winter? No, Daniel, if I went anywhere I should like to go to--to--"

"Where, Serena? Just name it and I'll buy the tickets."

"Daniel, I'd rather go to Trumet than anywhere else."

Captain Dan could scarcely believe it.

"WHAT!" he cried. "Trumet? You want to go to Trumet, Serena? YOU?"

"Yes. I've been wanting to go for some time. I never told you; I
wouldn't even admit it to myself; but I've thought about it a great
deal. I was getting so tired, so sick of all the going about and the
dressing up and the talking, talking all the time. I longed to be
somewhere where there was nothing going on and where you and I could be
together as we used to be. And, oh, Daniel--"

"Yes, Serena? Yes?"

"Oh, Daniel, since I've been really sick, since I've been getting better
and could think at all, I've been thinking more and more about our old
house at Trumet, and how nice and comfortable we were there, and what
pleasant evenings you and I used to have together. It was home, Daniel,
really and truly home, and this place never has been, has it?"

"You bet it hasn't! It's been--well, never mind, but it wasn't home.
Lordy, but I'm glad to hear you talk this way, Serena! _I_ haven't
thought anything else since we first landed, but I never imagined you
did."

"I didn't, at first. It has been only lately since I began to feel so
tired and my head troubled me so. Daniel, I'm not sure that our coming
here wasn't a mistake."

The captain was perfectly sure. He sprang to his feet.

"That's all right, Serena," he cried. "If it was a mistake it's one that
can be straightened out in two shakes of slack jib sheet. You stay here
and rest easy. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to make arrangements for our trip to Trumet. 'Twon't take me
long."

"Daniel, stop! Sit down. I didn't say I was going. I said I should like
to go."

"That's the same thing. Now, Serena, I know what's frettin' you. You're
thinkin' what'll become of this house and all the fine things in it.
They'll be all right. We could rent this house in no time, I know it. I
ain't sure but what we could sell it if we wanted to. That real estate
fellow, the one Barney--B. Phelps, I mean--introduced me to down street
one time, met me t'other day and told me if I ever thought of sellin'
this place to let him know. Said he had a customer, or thought he had,
that knew the house well and always liked it. He bel