n.

"In a year or two," said Verry.

"Verry!"

"In three weeks, then."

"From to-day?"

"No, that will be the date of the wreck of the _Locke Morgeson_; but
three weeks from to-morrow. Must we have anybody here, Ben?"

"Helen, and Alice, Cassandra?"

"Certainly."

"I have no friends," said Verry.

"What will you wear, Verry?" I asked.

"Why, this dress," designating her old black silk. Her eyes filled
with tears, and went on a pilgrimage toward the unknown heaven where
our mother was. _She_ could only come to the wedding as a ghost. I
imagined her flitting through the empty spaces, from room to room,
scared and troubled by the pressure of mortal life around her.

"I shall not wear white," Verry said hastily.

The very day Ben went to Belem one of father's outstanding ships
arrived. She came into the harbor presenting the unusual sight of
trying oil on deck. Black and greasy from hull to spar, she was a
pleasant sight, for she was full of sperm oil. Little boys ran down to
the house to inform us of that fact before she was moored. "Wouldn't
Mr. Morgeson be all right now that his luck had changed?" they asked.

At supper father said "By George!" several times, by that oath
resuming something of his old self. "Those women can now be paid," he
said. "If I could have held out till now, I could have gone on without
failing. This is the first good voyage the _Oswego_ ever made me; if
another ship, the _Adamant_, will come full while oil is high, I shall
arrange matters with my creditors before the three years are up. To
hold my own again--ah! I never will venture all upon the uncertain
field of the sea."

The _Oswego's_ captain sent us a box of shells next day, and a small
Portuguese boy, named Manuel--a handsome, black-eyed, husky-voiced
fellow, in a red shirt, which was bound round his waist with a leather
belt, from which hung a sailor's sheath-knife.

"He is volcanic," said Verry.

"The Portuguese are all handsome," said Fanny, poking him, to see if
he would notice it. But he did not remove his eyes from Veronica.

"He shall be your page, Verry."

The next night a message came to us that Abram was dying. If we ever
meant to come, Temperance sent word, some of us might come now; but
she would rather have Mr. Morgeson. Fanny insisted upon going with him
to carry a lantern. Manuel offered her his knife, when he comprehended
that she was going through a dark road.

"You are a perfect heathen. There's