her his mother was; he has
just been telling me about it." She did not bring out this last fact as
though it were the most important. Important?--the only important point
was that she should be pleased. She had kept Winthrop's arm during this
time; now she relinquished it, and turned back to the easel.

"'De corn-tops ripe, an' de meddars all abloom,
In my ole Kentucky home far away,'"

sang the stranger; and this time he let out his voice, and sang aloud.
It was a very good voice. But Winthrop did not admire it.

"The others have probably no idea what has become of us," he said to
Garda; "shall we go and look for them?"

"Yes," answered Garda; "of course they must be wondering. You go; I will
wait here; go and bring Mr. Moore to see his cousin."

"It will be quite easy for Mr.---- for this gentleman--"

"Spenser," said the artist, good-humoredly, as he painted on.

"--to see Mr. Moore at any time in Gracias," continued Winthrop, without
accepting the name. For the life of him he could not put full confidence
in this impromptu relationship which Garda had discovered, any more than
he could in this, as one might say, impromptu man, whom she had also
unearthed, miles from any inhabited point, on a wild shore. If the
stranger were indeed a cousin of the Rev. Mr. Moore's, why had he not
made himself known to him before this? He must have come through
Gracias; Gracias was not so large a place that there could have been any
difficulty in finding the rector of St. Philip and St. James'; nor was
it so busy a place that one could have been pressed for time there.

"The truth is," answered Spenser, after he had completed a bit of work
which seemed much to his mind--"the truth is," he repeated, looking at
it critically, with his head on one side, "that I have, so far at least,
rather shirked my good cousin; I am ashamed to say it, but it is true.
You see, I only faintly remember him; but he will very clearly remember
me, he will have reminiscences; he will be sure to tell me that he knew
me when I was a dear little baby! Now I maintain that no man can really
welcome that statement, it betokens recollections into which he cannot
possibly enter; all he can do is to smirk inanely, and say that he fears
he must have been a bad little boy."

"I know Mr. Moore will say it," said Garda, gleefully; "I know he will!
Do go and call him," she said to Winthrop; "he will walk down to Jupiter
Inlet if you don't stop him."