like a great magnet: it seemed
impossible to resist looking after him, and indeed his ghost-like
presence would not forsake her mind, but seemed urging her toward his
visible self. The thought of him was so powerful that the sight of the
young man was less strange and compelling, and it was almost a relief
to have seen his familiar appearance,--the strong figure in its
every-day clothes, his unstudent-like vigor, and easy step as he went
by. She liked him still, but she hated love, it was making her so
miserable,--even when later she told Captain Parish some delightful
Oldfields stories, of so humorous a kind that he laughed long and
struck the table more than once, which set the glasses jingling, and
gave a splendid approval to the time-honored fun. The ducklings were
amazingly good; and when Captain Walter had tasted his wine and read
the silver label on the decanter, which as usual gave no evidence of
the rank and dignity of the contents, his eyes sparkled with
satisfaction, and he turned to his cousin's daughter with impressive
gravity.

"You may never have tasted such wine as that," he said. "Your
grandfather, the luckiest captain who ever sailed out of Dunport,
brought it home fifty years ago, and it was well ripened then. I
didn't know there was a bottle of it left, Nancy," he laughed. "My
dear, your aunt has undertaken to pay one of us a handsome
compliment."

"Your health, cousin Walter!" said the girl quickly, lifting her own
glass, and making him a little bow over the old Madeira.

"Bless your dear heart!" responded the captain; "the same good wishes
to you in return, and now you must join me in my respects to your
aunt. Nancy! I beg you not to waste this in pudding-sauces; that's the
way with you ladies."

The toast-drinking had a good effect upon the little company, and it
seemed as if the cloud which had hung over it at first had been blown
away. When there was no longer any excuse for lingering at the table,
the guest seemed again a little ill at ease, and after a glance at his
hostess, proposed to Nan that they should take a look at the garden.
The old sailor had become in his later years a devoted tiller of the
soil, and pleaded a desire to see some late roses which were just now
in bloom. So he and Nan went down the walk together, and he fidgeted
and hurried about for a few minutes before he could make up his mind
to begin a speech which was weighing heavily on his conscience.

Nan was sure that