the mast. Tend to your business!"

* * * * *

It was forty-eight years before Letty and Alfred saw each other
again--or at least before persons calling themselves by those old names
saw each other. Were they Letty and Alfred--this tousled, tangled,
good-humored old man, ruddy and cowed, and this small, bright-eyed
old lady, Mrs. North, led about by a devoted daughter? Certainly these
two persons bore no resemblance to the boy and girl torn from each
other's arms that cold December night. Alfred had been mild and slow;
Captain Price (except when his daughter-in-law raised her finger) was a
pleasant old roaring lion. Letty had been a gay, high-spirited little
creature, not as retiring, perhaps, as a young female should be, and
certainly self-willed; Mrs. North was completely under the thumb of her
daughter Mary. Not that "under the thumb" means unhappiness; Mary North
desired only her mother's welfare, and lived fiercely for that single
purpose. From morning until night (and, indeed, until morning again, for
she rose often from her bed to see that there was no draught from the
crack of the open window), all through the twenty-four hours she was on
duty.

[Illustration: THE CAPTAIN AND CYRUS WERE AFRAID OF GUSSIE]

When this excellent daughter appeared in Old Chester and said she was
going to hire a house, and bring her mother back to end her days in the
home of her girlhood, Old Chester displayed a friendly interest; when
she decided upon a house on Main Street, directly opposite Captain
Price's, it began to recall the romance of that thwarted elopement.

"Do you suppose she knows that story about old Alfred Price and her
mother?" said Old Chester; and it looked sidewise at Miss North with
polite curiosity. This was not altogether because of her mother's
romantic past, but because of her own manners and clothes. With painful
exactness, Miss North endeavored to follow the fashion; but she looked
as if articles of clothing had been thrown at her and some had stuck.
As to her manners, Old Chester was divided; Mrs. David Baily said, with
delicate disgust, that they were bad; but Mrs. Barkley said, that the
trouble was she hadn't any manners; and as for Dr. Lavendar, he insisted
that she was just shy. But, as Mrs. Drayton said, that was like Dr.
Lavendar, always making excuses for wrong-doing! "Which," said Mrs.
Drayton, "is a strange thing for a minister to do. For my part, I cannot
underst