The Wickford lecture was over, and Kate Coggeshall was shaking the lecturer’s hand.

A girl turned to her neighbor. “Did you ever see such beautiful hair?”

“I wasn’t thinking about it. I want to bring up two little Gracchi.”

But after the bright bevy had clustered around him, an older woman approached. Her severe little bonnet was black above hair almost as snowy as his, and the girls made way for her.

“Do you remember me, Mr. Rich?”

“I’ve been glancing at you from time to time, Susan. I hope that my weak words have been blessed to you in your very becoming old age.”

“Ambrose, Kate is going to bring you to dinner immediately. But where is Winifred’s girl?”

Jean emerged from the bevy, dropped a curtsy, and rose still holding the edges of her organdie.

“Do you like it, Mrs. Hogg?”

“Very much, my dear.”

“I wouldn’t sell this dress for a million dollars, because your loving gift to my big brother is in it. I’m the only one left, Aunt Susan. Please try to like me.”

Thus presently it came to pass that when Kate Coggeshall’s surrey once more made its way up through the apple orchard, it bore Mainutung and Naynokahsee.

The dining room was just the same, all cool with the gleam of old silver, and rich with bichromate of potash rubbed into mahogany. The dinner began with due gravity, but presently Jean began to bubble.

“Oh, my aunt Susan, I love your fish chowder. This is the very first salt-water fish I ever did eat.”

“Don’t you ever make chowder?”

“Yes, whenever we have a big black bass.”

“Do the Indians bring you the bass?”

“No, we catch ’em ourselves. The biggest one we had this summer was caught by our boarder, Mr. Mahan.”

“Which Mr. Mahan?”

“Oh, his first name was Marvin. You don’t know him.”

“But we do!”

A telltale flush began to dawn on Jean’s cheeks. “Why, you see, Mr. Mahan came along and camped on my island this summer for five whole days.”

“He has camped upstairs,” smiled Mrs. Hogg, “for many a week-end. But we have seen little of him since James went to Chicago to work for Mr. Asher Ferry.”

“Aunt Susan, I’ve seen Mr. Ferry’s yacht and I’ve seen his daughter. She is awfully pretty.”

“Yes, Gratia is beautiful.”

“Oh, is that her name?”

Kate, wondering whether the lecturer’s fee was balm for a wound inflicted or hope for future favors, changed the conversation.

“Mrs. Hogg, is what was printed in the local paper last evening true?”

“Why, yes. Miss Coggeshall is referring to an article that some impertinent correspondent has written about my husband’s family. My son is not aware that that curious old cabinet over there was made by a Huguenot ancestor in Southampton.”

After dinner the party retired to the porch but not until Mrs. Hogg had gone to the old cabinet and taken thence a document and a tiny box.

“Jean, when I heard you were coming to Wickford today, I sent to the bank and bought another gold piece.”

“Why, thank you very much, aunt Susan. Here’s a kiss for you, right on your pink cheek.”

“And now, Jean, if you don’t mind, I am going to ask your father some questions about business.”

Ambrose Rich chuckled. “No, Susan. Something’s happened to you.”

“Miss Kate,” cried Jean, “they’re going to fight. Let’s you and me run away. Come and wander with me in the gloaming.”

“Miss Jean,” said the educator with dignity, “I have not only wandered with youth in the gloaming, but my whole bulk has been lifted off my feet, and I was kissed in mid-air.”

“Well, I can’t do that, but I have lifted a whole man into a boat.”

When they were out of sight, Mrs. Hogg began to talk.

“I want to ask you about these shares of the Upper Peninsula Development Company. It is an old one, formed in the time of the Civil War. It made a good deal of money for my father-in-law, but I wish to know whether it is worth anything now. Here is a map that came with it long ago.”

Ambrose Rich took the map and studied it in the light that came through the window.

“I can’t answer your question, but there are both iron and copper in that region. Who holds the controlling interest?”

“Lord Fortinbras, the famous yachtsman. He is very old now, and I think his son is dead. Whether there are grandchildren I don’t know, but they say that a Fortinbras never sells anything.”

“Well, I advise you to keep it for James. Pray tell me something about him.”

That was invitation enough for Susan, and she proceeded to recount her son’s successes at some length, until after fifteen minutes she heard Kate Coggeshall’s voice calling from the darkness.

“Mrs. Hogg, please excuse yourself and come down here.”

Mrs. Hogg carefully descended the steps and proceeded toward the gate. There she found the experienced dean of girls standing with her arm around Jean.

“What do you think?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“Do you recall a certain auburn-haired youth who made me scream?”

“I do.”

“He’s proposed to this child.”

Susan Endicott Hogg was glad that her face could not be seen in the darkness. This was the best news she had heard in many a day.

“I’m very glad for you, Jean.”

“But I haven’t accepted him, and I never will.”

“Of course you will! And when you’re married. I’ll give you your trousseau. Meantime, just to show how grateful I am for coming to see me, I want you to take this thing.”

She pressed into the hands of the surprised girl the certificate of stock, which was not too old to crackle in the dark.

“What is it?”

“Just some worthless stock, but it will not always be worthless. I’ll transfer it for you. Perhaps when there is another Jean, it will buy her trousseau.”