"Not a cent more," said Uncle Ike. "He will give you your money's worth, and then one won't owe the other anything. When you come down to supper I'll introduce you, just as if you had never seen each other, and you can both take a fresh start."

Uncle Ike arose. "By the time you have read your letters supper will be ready, and I want to go in and have a talk with Alice. She is my only niece, Mr. Sawyer, and I think she is the finest girl in Ma.s.sachusetts, and, as far as I know, there ain't any better one in the whole world;"

and Uncle Ike went out, closing the door behind him.

Quincy resumed his seat by the window. The light had faded considerably, but he could still see to read. Naturally enough he first opened the letter bearing the feminine handwriting. He looked at the signature first of all and read "Lucinda Putnam." "What can she have to write to me about?" he thought. He read the letter:

Mason's Corner, January 22, 186--

My dear Mr. Sawyer:--I regret very much that I was absent when you called, but am glad to learn from mother that you had a pleasant visit.

Although you are from the city I am sure you would blush if you could hear the nice things mother said about you. I am conceited enough to think that you will find time to call on us again soon, for I wish to consult you regarding an important business matter. I am going to Boston next Monday in relation to this business and if you could make it convenient to call before then it would be greatly appreciated by

Yours very truly, LUCINDA PUTNAM.

Quincy reflected. "What is she up to? Some legal business, I suppose.

Well, I am not practising law now; I shall have to refer her to--"

He took up the other letter and read, "Sawyer, Crowninshield, & Lawrence."

His father's letter read as follows:

Boston, January 21, 186--

My dear Son:--Yours at hand, and inquiries carefully noted. I had a brother, James Edward Sawyer; he was five years older than I and must be about sixty. Father wished him to study law, but he wouldn't study anything. When father died he got his share of the money, about $50,000, but he squandered the most of it in high living. The next we heard of him he had married a country girl named Eunice Raymond, I think. He brought her to Boston and tried to introduce her into the society he had been brought up in. She was a nice, pretty woman, but uneducated, and naturally bashful, and James finally left the city and went to live somewhere in the country, I never knew where! he never wrote me after leaving Boston. This Jim Sawyer may be your uncle. I hope not, but if he is, remember he is my brother, and if he needs any a.s.sistance let me know at once. I hope your health is improving. Your mother and sisters are well and send love, as does also

Your affectionate father, NATHANIEL ADAMS SAWYER.

As Quincy finished his second letter there was another rap at the door and Mandy's voice was heard outside saying, "Supper's ready, Mr.

Saw--yer."

Quincy jumped to his feet. He had not unlocked his trunk, as he was not certain that it would be worth while to do so. It was but the work of a few moments to make the necessary changes in his toilet. He put on a black Prince Albert coat in place of a sack coat that he usually wore, but before he had completed this change there came another tap on the door, and Mandy's voice was heard saying, "The things will get cold if you don't come down right away."

As Quincy entered the large room which was used for a dining-room, he was met by Uncle Ike. Ezekiel was standing a short distance from his uncle. Uncle Ike said, "'Zekiel, this is my friend, Mr. Sawyer. Mr.

Sawyer, this is my nephew, 'Zekiel Pettengill. I am good friends with both of you, and I hope you will be good friends to each other."

The two men shook hands. If each had any idea of what the other was thinking about he did not betray it by look or act.

Uncle Ike continued, "Mr. Sawyer, this is Jim Cobb and this is Bill Cobb, and this," as Mandy entered bearing something for the table, "is Miss Mandy Skinner. Now that we are all acquainted, I think we had all better introduce ourselves at once to the supper. I haven't done such a hard day's work for sixteen years."

Ezekiel insisted upon Uncle Ike taking the head of the table. He motioned Mr. Sawyer to take the second seat from his uncle on the right, while he took the first seat on the left, with Cobb's twins next to him.

Quincy immediately surmised that when the sister appeared at the table she would probably sit between him and Uncle Ike.

The meal was not a very lively one as far as conversation went. Quincy inquired politely concerning Miss Pettengill's health, and Uncle Ike said she was tired after her trip, and Mandy was going to take her supper up to her.

The meal was plentiful and well cooked. Quincy thought to himself, how much brighter it would have looked, and how much better the food would have tasted if Miss Huldy Mason had been present with her pretty face, joyous laugh, and occasional bright sayings.

After supper the things were quickly taken out by Mandy. The white tablecloth was removed, and one in which the prevailing color was bright red took its place.

The three men drew up to the open fireplace. Uncle Ike pulled out his pipe and said, "Do you allow smoking here, 'Zeke?"

'Zekiel replied, "I wish you and Mr. Sawyer to make yourselves perfectly at home and do just as you would if you were in your own house."

"Well, if I did that," said Uncle Ike, "you wouldn't need Mandy, for I should be chief cook and bottle washer myself."

Uncle Ike lighted his pipe, and Ezekiel took a cigar from his pocket, saying, "I guess I'll smoke, too." Then his face reddened. He said, "Beg pardon, Mr. Sawyer, I have only this one."

"That's all right," rejoined Quincy, "a cigar would be too heavy for me to-night. I have a slight headache, and if you will excuse me I will roll a cigarette."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "MANDY SKINNER," AS SHE APPEARS IN THE PLAY.]

He took his little case of rice paper from his pocket and also a small pouch of tobacco, and deftly made and lighted a cigarette. The three men sat smoking, and as Quincy blew a ring into the air he wondered what Sir Walter Raleigh would have said if he could have looked in upon them.

Quincy broke the silence. "I am afraid, Uncle Ike, that I have caused you much inconvenience by driving you out of that pleasant front room where I found my trunk."

"Not a bit," replied Uncle Ike. "I hate carpets, and I prefer to sleep in my own bed, and what's more, I wanted to put up my stove, and there was no chance in that front room. When real cold weather comes I always have a ton of coal for my stove, so I am much better off where I am than I would be downstairs. By the way, 'Zeke, just tell me all about Alice again. You won't mind Mr. Sawyer; he is one of the family now."

"Well," said Ezekiel, "Alice was taken sick about the middle of December. The folks where she boarded sent for a doctor. It was about eight o'clock in the morning when she was taken, and it was noon before she got easy, so they could get her to bed. She thought she was getting better; then, she had another attack; then she thought she was getting better again, and the third attack was the worst of the three. The folks wanted to write to me, but she wouldn't let them. When she really did begin to get better, she found out there was something that was worse than being sick. She found she couldn't see to read either print or writing, but Alice is a s.p.u.n.ky girl, and she wouldn't give in, even then. A friend told her to go and see Dr. Moses, who was an eye doctor, and put herself right under his treatment. She thought she was going to get well right off at first, but when she found it was likely to be a long job, then she gave in and wrote to me. She has brought her treatment down with her, and the doctor says she will have to go to Boston once a month to see him, as he is too busy to come down here."

At this point in the proceedings the door opened and Mandy entered, bringing a large dish of big red apples and another full of cracked sh.e.l.lbarks. She left the room and returned almost immediately with a large dish full of popcorn.

"Have an apple?" said Ezekiel. "Help yourselves; we don't pa.s.s anything round here. We put the things on the table and each one helps himself."

Mandy came in again, bringing a large pitcher of cider and some gla.s.ses, which she placed upon the table.

While the three men were discussing their country evening lunch in silence, an animated conversation was taking place in the kitchen, the partic.i.p.ants being Mandy, Mrs. Bridget Crowley, and Hiram, who always dropped in during the evening to get his gla.s.s of cider, a luxury that was not dispensed at Deacon Mason's.

"Well," said Mandy, "I think it's wasteful extravagance for you Irish folks to spend so much money on carriages when one of your friends happens to die. As you just said, when you lived in Boston you own up you spent fourteen dollars in one month going to funerals, and you paid a dollar a seat each time."

"I did that," said Mrs. Crowley, "and I earned every bit of it doing washing, for Pat, bless his sowl, was out of work at the time."

"Just think of that!" said Mandy, turning to Hiram.

"Well, it can't be helped," said Mrs. Crowley, obstinately. "Shure and if I don't go to folks' funerals they won't come to mine."

This was too much for Mandy and Hiram, and they began laughing, which so incensed Mrs. Crowley that she trudged off to her little room in the ell, which departure just suited Mandy and Hiram.

"Have you got any soft soap here in the kitchen?" asked Hiram.

"No," said Mandy, "I used the last this afternoon. I shall have to go out in the shed to-morrow morning and get some."

"You wouldn't be likely to go out to-night for any?" asked Hiram.

"I guess not," said Mandy. "Why, there is rats out in that shed as big as kittens. Did you want to use some?"

"No," said Hiram, "but I didn't want you to have any 'round handy, for I am bound to tell you I heard Strout telling the minister's son that Lindy Putnam writ a letter to Mr. Sawyer and mailed it at Mason's Corner post office this mornin', and it was directed to Eastborough Centre, and Strout said it looked as though they were keeping up correspondence. I tell you that made 'Manuel Howe mad, for he's gone on Lindy Putnam himself, and then Strout said that probably all the fellers in town would have to put off getting married until that city chap had decided which one of the girls he wanted himself. And now, hang it," said Hiram, "he has come to live in this house, and I sha'n't have any peace of mind."

Hiram dodged the first apple Mandy threw at his head, but the second one hit him squarely, and he gave a loud "Oh!"