threshold.

"I wonders, Davy," the skipper confided, taking the leap, at last, "what
she've gone an' writ!"

"Jacky," I burst out, in disgust, turning to the twins, "I just _knowed_
he'd get t' wonderin'!"

Skipper Tommy started: he grew shamefaced, all in a moment; and he
seemed now first conscious of guilty wishes.

"Timmie," said Jacky, hoarsely, from the doorway, "she've writ."

"Ay, Jacky," Timmie echoed, "she've certain gone an' done it."

They entered.

"I been--sort o'--gettin' a letter, lads," the skipper stammered: a hint
of pride in his manner. "It come ashore," he added, with importance,
"from the mail-boat."

"Dad," Timmie asked, sorrowfully, "is you been askin' Davy t' read that
letter?"

"Well, no, Timmie," the skipper drawled, tweaking his nose; "'tisn't
quite so bad. But I been wonderin'----"

"Oh, is you!" Jacky broke in. "Timmie," said he, grinning, "dad's been
wonderin'!"

"Is he?" Timmie asked, assuming innocence. "Wonderin'?"

"Wasn't you sayin' so, dad?"

"Well," the skipper admitted, "havin' _said_ so, I'll not gainsay it. I
_was_ wonderin'----"

"An' you _knowin'_," sighed Timmie, "that you're an obligin' man!"

"Dad," Jacky demanded, "didn't the Lard kindly send a switch o' wind
from the sou'east t' save you oncet?"

The skipper blushed uneasily.

"Does you think," Timmie pursued, "that He'll turn His hand _again_ t'
save you?"

"Well----"

"Look you, dad," said Jacky, "isn't you got in trouble enough all along
o' wonderin' too much?"

"Well," the skipper exclaimed, badgered into self-assertion, "I _was_
wonderin'; but since you two lads come in I been _thinkin'_. Since them
two twins o' mine come in, Davy," he repeated, turning to me, his eyes
sparkling with fatherly affection, "I been thinkin' 'twould be a fine
plan t' tack this letter t' the wall for a warnin' t' the household agin
the wiles o' women!"

Timmie and Jacky silently embraced--containing their delight as best
they could, though it pained them.

"Not," the skipper continued, "that I'll have a word said agin' that
woman: which I won't," said he, "nor no other. The Lard knowed what He
was about. He made them with His own hands, an' if _He_ was willin' t'
take the responsibility, us men can do no less than stand by an' weather
it out. 'Tis my own idea that He was more sot on fine lines than sailin'
qualities when He whittled His model. 'I'll make a craft,' says He, 'for
looks, an' I'll pay no heed,' sa