VIII. THE OLD SONGS

XXXIX. SOCIETY

XL. "YES OR NO"

XLI. AN HEIRESS

XLII. THE PATHOS OF LIFE

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

THE HOME OF UNCLE TERRY

UNCLE TERRY AND TELLY

ALICE

THE OLD MILL

UNCLE TERRY

A STORY OF THE MAINE COAST

CHAPTER I

A WAIF OF THE SEA

"It's goin' to be a nasty night," said Uncle Terry, coming in from the
shed and dumping an armful of wood in the box behind the kitchen stove,
"an' the combers is just a-humpin' over White Hoss Ledge, an' the
spray's flyin' half way up the lighthouse."

"The Lord-a-massy help any poor soul that goes ashore to-night,"
responded a portly, white-haired woman beside the stove, as a monster
wave made the little dwelling tremble.

Uncle Terry took off his dripping sou'wester and coat, and, hanging them
over the wood box, went to the sink and began pumping a basin of water.

"Better have some warm, Silas," said the woman, taking the steaming
kettle from the stove and following him; "it's more comfortin'."

When he had washed, and combed his scanty gray locks and beard at a
small mirror, he stood for a moment beside the stove. His weather-beaten
face that evinced character, so pronounced were its features, wore a
smile, and his deep-set gray eyes emitted a twinkle.

"Supper 'most ready, Lissy?" he asked, eyeing a pot on the stove that
gave out an appetizing odor. "I'm hungry 'nough to eat a mule with the
harness on!"

"'Twill be in a minit," was the reply. "Better go into t'other room
where Telly's settin' the table."

Uncle Terry obeyed, and, finding a bright fire burning there, stood back
to it, smiling affectionately at a young girl busy beside the table. She
had an oval face, a rather thin and delicate nose, small sweet mouth,
and eyes that were big, blue, and appealing. A wealth of light hair was
coiled on the back of her head, and her form was full and rounded.

"It's blowing hard to-night, father, isn't it?" she observed. "I can
feel the waves shake the house." Then, not waiting for an answer, she
stepped to a closet, and bringing a short gray coat and felt slippers,
pushed an arm-chair to the fire, and placing the slippers beside it,
held the coat ready for him to put it on.

"You might as well be comfortable," she added; "you haven't got to go
out again, have you?"

The man seated himself, and drawing off his wet boots and putting on his
slippers, opened his hands toward the blaze and observed: "You and
Lissy'