believe you were to give a hungry
traveller some supper."

Linnet ran in to kindle the fire and make a cup of tea; Will cut the cold
boiled ham and the bread, while Linnet brought the cake and sugared the
blueberries.

"Linnet, we have a precious little home."

"Thanks to your good father."

"Yes, thanks to my father. I ought not to displease him," Will returned
seriously.

"You do please him; you satisfy him in everything. He told Hollis so."

"Why, I didn't tell you that Hollis came in the train with me. See how
you make me forget everything. He is to stay here a day or so, and then
go on a fishing excursion with some friends, and then come back here for
another day or so. What a fine fellow he is. He is the gentleman among us
boys."

"I would like to know what you are," said Linnet indignantly.

"A rough old tar," laughed Will, for the sake of the flash in his wife's
eyes.

"Then I'm a rough old tar too," said Linnet decidedly.

How short the evening was! They went across the fields to see Hollis, and
to talk over affairs with the largest owner of the _Linnet_. Linnet
wondered when she knelt beside Will that night if it would be wrong to
ask God to keep the wind ahead until Monday morning. Marjorie moaned in
her sleep in real trouble. Linnet dreamed that she awoke Sunday morning
and the wind had not changed.

But she did not awake until she heard a heavy rap on the window pane. It
was scarcely light, and Will had sprung out of bed and had raised the
window and was talking to his father.

"I'll be here in an hour or less time to drive you into Portland. Hollis
won't drive you; but I'll be here on time."

"But, father," expostulated Will. He had never resisted his father's will
as the others had done. He inherited his mother's peace-loving
disposition; he could only expostulate and yield.

"The Linnet must sail, or I'll find another master," said his father in
his harshest voice.

Linnet kept the tears back bravely for Will's sake; but she clung to him
sobbing at the last, and he wept with her; he had never wept on leaving
her before; but this time it was so hard, so hard.

"Will, how _can_ I let you go?"

"Keep up, sweetheart. It isn't a long trip--I'll soon be home. Let us
have a prayer together before I go."

It was a simple prayer, interrupted by Linnet's sobbing. He asked only
that God would keep his wife safe, and bring him home safe to her, for
Jesus' sake. And then his father's voice wa