“Poor Jaco! I ’clare it makes me sithe to think on him.” And Vi’let sighed audibly, when Peter removed his mat from the kitchen. Poor Jaco’s remains were respectably interred in the garden, under his absent master’s favorite tree, with a stone to mark the spot, setting forth his useful life and many virtues. Pleasantly passed the month in Paved street, in anticipation of George’s return: the smiles returning to his mother’s countenance, which had seldom visited it since his father’s death. And pleasantly glided by the hours to Judith; but how—in her eyrie, watching the waves which were soon to bear her lover to her, and invoking the winds to speed his course? Not she—she taxed herself with selfishness, in having already spent so much time, engrossed by her own feelings, and not in administering to the happiness of others; and she resolutely determined not to go up into the cupola, take the spy-glass into her hand, nor even to consult the golden fish, which surmounted the highest peak of Captain Brayton’s house as a weathercock—which latter she could do by only looking out of the east-room window—until she had made up for lost time, and finished several pieces of work she had on hand. Mr. Solomon Tarbox, seeing there was no hope for him with Judith, had paid his addresses to Miss Ruthy Philpot, the daughter of a ship-chandler in the neighborhood, and their nuptials were near at hand. Judith had set up a patch-work quilt in the summer, as a bridal present. “And it was high time it was completed,” she said. So every afternoon, after her household cares for the day were over, she sat herself at her patch-work in the sitting-room, and with her lively chatter shed the sunshine of her own happy spirits over her parents and grandfather. At the end of three weeks the quilt was completed. “And a beauty it was,” Ruthy said, when Judith surprised her with it, and taking it from the arms of the boy who brought it, unfolded it before her admiring eyes. “And the pattern of the quilting, too, in shells—so much genteeler than herring-bone—it was the handsomest present she had had yet; but her thanks should be paid when Judith should be in the same case; which would be before long, no doubt.”