Mr. Stagg was walking briskly towards Sunrise Cove in his big felt snow-boots, such as all men wore in that locality, and was abreast of the Parlow shop and cottage—which he always sought to avoid looking at—when he heard a door open and close. He tried not to look that way. But his ear told him instantly that the person who had come out was Miss Amanda, rather than her father. Knowing this, how could he help darting a glance at her? For more years than he cared to count, Joseph Stagg had been passing back and forth along this road. Sometimes, in his secret heart, he wished the Parlow place would burn down, or be otherwise swept from its site. It was an abomination to him. Yet he was always tempted to steal a glance as he passed, in hope of seeing Miss Amanda. He often saw Mr. Parlow staring from his shop at him, his grey old face puckered into a scowl, but the carpenter’s daughter was seldom in evidence when Mr. Stagg went by. She might be, at such times, behind the front-room blinds peering out at him; but he did not know that. It had not always been so. As Chet Gormley’s gossipy mother had told Carolyn May, time was when the hardware dealer—then having just opened his store in Sunrise Cove—and the carpenter’s daughter were frequently together. Often when Joseph Stagg came in sight of the Parlow residence Amanda was at the gate. She sometimes walked to town with him. He even remembered—but that was still earlier in their lives—pulling her on his red sled. There had never been any other girl Joe Stagg cared for. And now—— He ventured another quick glance towards the Parlow side of the road. Miss Amanda stood on the porch, looking directly at him. “Mr. Stagg,” she called earnestly, “I must speak to you.” Save on the Sunday when Prince had killed the blacksnake, Miss Amanda had not spoken directly to the hardware merchant in all these hungry years. It rather shocked Joseph Stagg now that she should do so. “Will you come in?” she urged him, her voice rather tremulous. There was a moment of absolute silence. “Bless me! Yes!” ejaculated the hardware man finally. He turned in at the path to the gate, opened the latter, and reached the porch. He was quite himself when he arrived before her. “I assure you, Mr. Stagg,” Miss Amanda said hurriedly, “it is no personal matter that causes me to stop you in this fashion.” “No, ma’am?” responded the man stiffly. He was looking directly at her now, and it was Miss Amanda who could not bring her gaze to meet his. Her face had first flushed, and now was pale. The long lashes, lowered over her brown eyes, curled against her smooth cheek. Like Carolyn May, Mr. Stagg thought her a very lovely lady, indeed. “I want you to come in and speak with this sailor who was hurt,” she finally said. “Carolyn May has told you about him, hasn’t she?” “The whole neighbourhood has been talking about it,” returned Joseph Stagg grimly.