nsounded sea. "I think
this will do for the present."

Lovell nodded his head with a grave good-night and disappeared.

Meanwhile, Grandma and Grandpa Keeler and Madeline were absorbing this
last impressive scene as they slowly emerged from that unknown quarter of
the Ark whither they had retreated.

Grandpa looked at me with a peculiar twinkle in his eye.

"So Lovell came back to give ye his picter, eh, teacher?" said he.

I returned Grandpa's look with cheerful and unoffended alacrity; but
Grandma interrupted, "Thar', now, pa! Thar', now! We mustn't inquire into
everything we happen to get a little wind on. Ye see, teacher," she
continued, in tones of the broadest gentleness, "we knew they'd be sorter
bashful gettin' acquainted the first night, and so we thought it 'ud be
easier for 'em if we should leave 'em to themselves, and we knew you was
so--we knew you wouldn't care."

As Grandpa resumed his accustomed seat by the fire, an expansive grin
still lingered on his features.

"Ah, he's a queer fellow, that Lovell," said he; "but he's quick to larn,
they say, larns like a book. I'll tell ye what's the trouble with him,
teacher. He's been tied too long to his mother's apron-strings. He don't
know no more about the world than a chicken. He's thirty odd now, I
guess, and I reckon he ain't never been further away from the beach than
Sandwich te-own."

"I don't know as we'd ought to blame him," said Grandma Keeler; "though
to be sure, Lovell's more quiet-natured than some that likes to be
wanderin' off as young folks will, generally; but he was the only one
they had, and Lovell's allus been a good boy. Pa and me, when we go to
meetin', we most allus come across him a carryin' his Sunday School book
under his arm, and may be," concluded Grandma Keeler, "there'll be
a time when we shall more on us wish that thar' wan't nothin' wuss could
be brought against us than being innocent."

We pondered these suggestive words a few moments in silence; then Grandpa
Keeler boldly interposed:--

"That Lute Cradlebow--he's a handsome boy, teacher. Ah, he's a handsome
one. They're a handsome family, them Cradlebows.

"There's the old grannie, Aunt Sibby they call her. Lord, she's got a
head on her like a picter! They're high-bred, too, I reckon. To begin
with, why, Godfrey--Godfrey Cradlebow--that's Lute's father, teacher;
he's college bred, I suppose! He had a rich uncle thar', that took a
shine to him, and kind o' 'dopted hi