"They are," repeated Minty, secure in her tremendous discovery; "come and look. Do you s'pose," in a hushed tone, "do you spose they're beaux, ma?" "Hold your tongue, Minty Foster; you're too young to say such things," returned her mother; but the pompadour continued in a state of violent unrest as Mrs. Lem gazed at the new-comers and rapidly reviewed the situation and its possibilities. "I can't say it wouldn't be fittin'," she murmured, as she stood behind her daughter. The approaching pair seemed absorbed in close conversation as they sauntered slowly, the lady's face downcast and her companion's eyes upon her. "I'll never stay here with her, though, never in this world,"--went on Mrs. Lem, "and probably she wouldn't want me to." "Oh, ma, then we'll have to go back to Hawk Island. I don't want to," wailed Minty. "Hush!" commanded her mother, giving the child's shoulder a nervous shake. "Don't you dare to cry, Minty Foster. I guess you lived at Hawk Island a good while, and you can do it again." "Yes, but then pa wasn't drownded; and here we've got"-- "As comfortable as I've made Thinkright, too. I'd call it downright ungrateful if 't was anybody but him," went on Mrs. Lem, paying no further attention to her offspring than to give the small shoulder another warning shake. "I s'pose he thinks age is goin' to steal on him before long, and he'd better be provided with some sure caretaker, and I can't deny 't would be a fine thing for Miss Marthy. I can just see them sharp eyes o' hers lookin' around here and takin' 'count o' stock. I always thought she was terrible curious about how things went on here." "P'raps they're married a'ready," hazarded Minty dismally. The pompadour wavered almost to its fall in the start Mrs. Lem gave. "Araminty Foster, how could you have such a thought at your age!" However, the housekeeper's fast-beating heart suddenly accepted the probability of the suggestion. "Leggo my shoulder, ma." Minty wriggled out of the excited clutch. "I don't care, they walk jest the way Jim an' Kitty did when they come out o' church." "What do you s'pose she's all in black for? Miss Marthy never had anybody to lose that ever I heard of. You don't suppose she'd go in black for one o' the Derwents, do you? It makes her look awful slim, and she walks so slow. Maybe she's been sick." The couple were drawing very near. Thinkright evidently called his companion's attention to something in the top of the tall pine that grew near the house. Sylvia lifted her head, the chiffon veil floated backward, and she gazed long up into the tree while the watchers at the window stared. "Why,--wha--" gasped Minty.