id Douglas, smoothing her thick brown hair fondly, as
she sat near him, bending over her sewing.

The younger children were asleep up stairs in two old bedrooms with
rattling dormer windows, and the father and elder daughter were in a
small room opposite the sitting-room, called the study, although nothing
was ever studied there, save the dreams of his own life, by the vague,
irresolute, imaginative soul that dwelt therein, in a thin body of its
own, much the worse for wear. William Douglas was a New England man of
the brooding type, sent by force of circumstances into the ranks of
United States army surgeons. He had married Anne's mother, who had
passionately loved him, against the wishes of her family, and had
brought the disinherited young bride out to this far Western island,
where she had died, happy to the last--one of those rare natures to whom
love is all in all, and the whole world well lost for its dear and holy
sake. Grief over her death brought out all at once the latent doubts,
hesitations, and strange perplexities of William Douglas's peculiar
mind--perplexities which might have lain dormant in a happier life. He
resigned his position as army surgeon, and refused even practice in the
village. Medical science was not exact, he said; there was much pretense
and presumption in it; he would no longer countenance deception, or play
a part. He was then made postmaster, and dealt out letters through some
seasons, until at last his mistakes roused the attention of the new
officers at the fort; for the villagers, good, easy-tempered people,
would never have complained of such trifles as a forgotten mail-bag or
two under the counter. Superseded, he then attended nominally to the
highways; but as the military authorities had for years done all that
was to be done on the smooth roads, three in number, including the steep
fort hill, the position was a sinecure, and the superintendent took long
walks across the island, studying the flora of the Northern woods,
watching the birds, noticing the clouds and the winds, staying out late
to experiment with the flash of the two light-houses from their
different distances, and then coming home to his lonely house, where the
baby Anne was tenderly cared for by Miss Lois Hinsdale, who
superintended the nurse all day, watched her charge to bed, and then
came over early in the morning before she woke. Miss Lois adored the
baby; and she watched the lonely father from a distance, imagi