"Why!" she cried, "you didn't interduce my pale lady to my friend, Mr. Laird. _This_ is the baby's mother, you know, sir," and the child drew the fragile hand of the pale lady into that of the Griffin. * * * * * A group gathered in the grassy yard before the Ball cottage on an afternoon not long thereafter showed that the younger Bassetts, if of independent spirit, held no rancour in their hearts regarding the elder Bassetts. In the group sat the three women, the grandmother with the baby in her lap, while his mother and Mrs. Cameron sewed. Molly Ball was getting supper for all, to be served when Barzilla and Joe Bassett should return from the fishing. "I used to wait like this for Henry to come home from work," the elder Mrs. Bassett said reflectively, with a smile upon her lips that altogether softened her haughty look. "We lived in a seaboard village, too, and we were much poorer than we are now--and much happier." Her husband and Carolyn, with Prince and Nebuchadnezzar trailing them, went hand in hand to meet the young men who were already in sight. "And Baby Laird and his mamma and papa are going to live right here with Molly and Barzilla all winter. Won't that be fine?" Carolyn cried. "I 'most wish we were going to stay here, too. It's a lovely place, I think." "Humph! No bath in the winter," said her friend, but more to himself than to her. "Don't see how they can stand it. But I'm going to build a house for 'em right on the shoulder of Beacon Hill yonder. They can't help my doing that, even if Joe is stubborn about beginning for himself--laying the foundation of his own fortune. "Yet, why not?" added the man ruminatively. "Swordfish may be just as good a foundation as coopering. I made barrels for the herring fishers when I began." Carolyn scarcely appreciated this, and she ran ahead to greet the two younger men. She came back swinging on one of Barzilla's great, brown hands. The elder Bassett got into step with his son, who carried his oilskins and other gear on one arm. They loitered behind the others. "I would have sent Inness where he belonged, Joe, if it wasn't for raking up the whole scandal. It would make a mess in the papers. And he was scheming to get you as far out of the way as Arizona! He feared we'd meet. He has been selling me out to the Cal Cummings crowd, too. René got everything off his chest when once I put the screws on him. So all I could really do was to discharge both of them. "René I hired over again," he added rather ruefully. "I didn't know where to find another chauffeur as good, or one who could handle the _White Streak_ as well. And he was very penitent." * * * * * Carolyn May was a full week bidding good-bye to everybody with whom she had become acquainted on the island.