“I was married in this room,” said Mrs. Todd unexpectedly; and I heard her give a sigh after she had spoken, as if she could not help the touch of regret that would forever come with all her thoughts of happiness. “We stood right there between the windows,” she added, “and the minister stood here. William wouldn’t come in. He was always odd about seein’ folks, just’s he is now. I run to meet ’em from a child, an’ William, he’d take an’ run away.” “I’ve been the gainer,” said the old mother cheerfully. “William has been son an’ daughter both since you was married off the island. He’s been ’most too satisfied to stop at home ’long o’ his old mother, but I always tell ’em I’m the gainer.” We were all moving toward the kitchen as if by common instinct. The best room was too suggestive of serious occasions, and the shades were all pulled down to shut out the summer light and air. It was indeed a tribute to Society to find a room set apart for her behests out there on so apparently neighborless and remote an island. Afternoon visits and evening festivals must be few in such a bleak situation at certain seasons of the year, but Mrs. Blackett was of those who do not live to themselves, and who have long since passed the line that divides mere self-concern from a valued share in whatever Society can give and take. There were those of her neighbors who never had taken the trouble to furnish a best room, but Mrs. Blackett was one who knew the uses of a parlor. “Yes, do come right out into the old kitchen; I shan’t make any stranger of you,” she invited us pleasantly, after we had been properly received in the room appointed to formality. “I expect Almiry, here, ’ll be driftin’ out ’mongst the pasture-weeds quick’s she can find a good excuse. ’Tis hot now. You’d better content yourselves till you get nice an’ rested, an’ ’long after dinner the sea-breeze’ll spring up, an’ then you can take your walks, an’ go up an’ see the prospect from the big ledge. Almiry’ll want to show off everything there is. Then I’ll get you a good cup o’ tea before you start to go home. The days are plenty long now.” While we were talking in the best room the selected fish had been mysteriously brought up from the shore, and lay all cleaned and ready in an earthen crock on the table. “I think William might have just stopped an’ said a word,” remarked Mrs. Todd, pouting with high affront as she caught sight of it. “He’s friendly enough when he comes ashore, an’ was remarkable social the last time, for him.” “He ain’t disposed to be very social with the ladies,” explained William’s mother, with a delightful glance at me, as if she counted upon my friendship and tolerance. “He’s very particular, and he’s all in his old fishin’-clothes to-day. He’ll want me to tell him everything you said and done, after you’ve gone. William has very deep affections. He’ll want to see you, Almiry. Yes, I guess he’ll be in by an’ by.”