m
before long, and he'd better be provided with some sure caretaker, and
I can't deny 't would be a fine thing for Miss Marthy. I can just see
them sharp eyes o' hers lookin' around here and takin' 'count o' stock.
I always thought she was terrible curious about how things went on
here."

"P'raps they're married a'ready," hazarded Minty dismally.

The pompadour wavered almost to its fall in the start Mrs. Lem gave.

"Araminty Foster, how could you have such a thought at your age!"
However, the housekeeper's fast-beating heart suddenly accepted the
probability of the suggestion.

"Leggo my shoulder, ma." Minty wriggled out of the excited clutch. "I
don't care, they walk jest the way Jim an' Kitty did when they come out
o' church."

"What do you s'pose she's all in black for? Miss Marthy never had
anybody to lose that ever I heard of. You don't suppose she'd go in
black for one o' the Derwents, do you? It makes her look awful slim,
and she walks so slow. Maybe she's been sick."

The couple were drawing very near. Thinkright evidently called his
companion's attention to something in the top of the tall pine that
grew near the house. Sylvia lifted her head, the chiffon veil floated
backward, and she gazed long up into the tree while the watchers at the
window stared.

"Why,--wha--" gasped Minty.

"Never mind!" ejaculated Mrs. Lem, in an altered tone. "Tell me, does
my Boston look all right?" One trembling hand patted the imposing
erection of shining black hair, while with the other the speaker pulled
the open-mouthed Minty away from the window. "Now don't you never tell
what we thought, Minty Foster, not if wild horses was to drag you.
_Remember!_"

"All--all right," gasped the child, "but"--

"They ain't no but. The cap'n 's been playin' smart again an' fooled
us. Don't you let on, Minty--never, _never_."

The series of jerks which accompanied the rapid flow of words was too
energetic for Minty to retain sufficient breath to let on anything. Her
mother trailed the brilliantine across the room with a self-command and
return of composure truly remarkable, and throwing open the door, met
the grave gaze of the guest with unsmiling majesty.

"How do you do, Mrs. Lem?" said Thinkright. "This is my young cousin,
Sylvia Lacey, who is going to make us a visit. And this little girl is
Minty Foster, Sylvia."

"Glad to see you, I'm sure, Miss Lacey," returned Mrs. Lem, giving the
offered hand a loose shake. "Won't yo