e, giving Mr. Kew some parting charges over her shoulder as
he pushed off the boat to go back; but after we had convinced her that
the delay had not troubled us, she seemed more cheerful. It was evident
that she felt the importance of the occasion, and that she was pleased
at our having chosen her for company. She threw back her veil entirely,
sat very straight, and took immense pains to bow to every acquaintance
whom she met. She wore her best Sunday clothes, and her manner was
formal for the first few minutes; it was evident that she felt we were
meeting under unusual circumstances, and that, although we had often met
before on the friendliest terms, our having asked her to make this
excursion in public required a different sort of behavior at her hands,
and a due amount of ceremony and propriety. But this state of things did
not last long, as she soon made a remark at which Kate and I laughed so
heartily in lighthouse-acquaintance fashion, that she unbent, and gave
her whole mind to enjoying herself.

When we came by the store where the post-office was kept we saw a small
knot of people gathered round the door, and stopped to see what had
happened. There was a forlorn horse standing near, with his harness tied
up with fuzzy ends of rope, and the wagon was cobbled together with
pieces of board; the whole craft looked as if it might be wrecked with
the least jar. In the wagon were four or five stupid-looking boys and
girls, one of whom was crying softly. Their father was sick, some one
told us. "He was took faint, but he is coming to all right; they have
give him something to take: their name is Craper, and they live way over
beyond the Ridge, on Stone Hill. They were goin' over to Denby to the
circus, and the man was calc'lating to get doctored, but I d' know's he
can get so fur; he's powerful slim-looking to me." Kate and I went to
see if we could be of any use, and when we went into the store we saw
the man leaning back in his chair, looking ghastly pale, and as if he
were far gone in consumption. Kate spoke to him, and he said he was
better; he had felt bad all the way along, but he hadn't given up. He
was pitiful, poor fellow, with his evident attempt at dressing up. He
had the bushiest, dustiest red hair and whiskers, which made the pallor
of his face still more striking, and his illness had thinned and paled
his rough, clumsy hands. I thought what a hard piece of work it must
have been for him to start for the ci