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When he waked the house was still, and with sudden consciousness of approaching danger, and a fear lest Mrs. French might have some last words to say if she found him awake, he stole out of his house as softly as possible and went down-town, hiding his secret woes and joining in the long seafaring reminiscences with which he and his friends usually diverted themselves. As he came up the street again toward supper-time, he saw that the blinds were thrown open in the parlor windows, and his heart began to beat loudly. He could hear women’s voices, and he went in by a side gate and sought the quiet garden. It had suffered from a touch of frost; so had the captain.

Mrs. French heard the gate creak, and presently she came to the garden door at the end of the front entry. “Come in, won’t ye, cap’n?” she called, persuasively, and with a mighty sea oath the captain rose and obeyed.

The house was still. He strode along the entry lite a brave man: there was nothing of the coward about Asaph Ball when he made up his mind to a thing. There was nobody in the best parlor, and he turned toward the sitting-room, but there sat smiling Mrs. French.

“Where is the gal?” blew the captain.

“Here I be, sir,” said Mrs. French, with a flushed and beaming face. “I thought ‘t was full time to put you out of your misery.”

“What’s all this mean? Whoo! whoo! “

“Here I be; take me or leave me, uncle,” answered the housekeeper: she began to be anxious, the captain looked so bewildered and irate. “Folks seemed to think that you was peculiar, and I was impressed that it would be better to just come first without a word’s bein’ said, and find out how you an’ me got on; then, if we didn’t make out, nobody ‘d be bound. I’m sure I didn’t want to be.”

“Who was that I heard talking with ye as I come by?” blew the captain very loud.

“That was Mis’ Cap’n Topliff; an’ an old cat she is,” calmly replied Mrs. French. “She hasn’t been near me before this three months, but plenty of stories she’s set goin’ about us, and plenty of spyin’ she’s done. I thought I’d tell you who I was within a week after I come, but I found out how things was goin’, and I had to spite ’em well before I got through. I expected that something would turn up, an’ the whole story get out. But we’ve been middlin’ comfortable, haven’t we, sir? an’ I thought ‘t was ’bout time to give you a little surprise. Mis’ Calvinn and the minister knows the whole story,” she concluded: “I wouldn’t have kep’ it from them. Mis’ Calvinn said all along ‘t would be a good lesson”–

“Who wrote that card from the post-office?” demanded the captain, apparently but half persuaded.

“I did,” said Mrs. French.

“Good Hector, you women-folks!” but Captain Ball ventured to cross the room and establish himself in his chair. Then, being a man of humor, he saw that he had a round turn on those who had spitefufly sought to question him.

“You needn’t let on, that you haven’t known me all along,” suggested Mrs. French. “I should be pleased if you would call me by my Christian name, sir. I was married to Mr. French only a short time; he was taken away very sudden. The letter that came after aunt’s death was directed to my maiden name, but aunt knew all about me. I’ve got some means, an’ I ain’t distressed but what I can earn my living.”

“They don’t call me such an old Turk, I hope!” exclaimed the excited captain, deprecating the underrated estimate of himself which was suddenly presented. “I ain’t a hard man at sea, now I tell ye,” and he turned away, much moved at the injustice of society. “I’ve got no head for geneology. Ann usually set in to give me the family particulars when I was logy with sleep a Sunday night. I thought you was a French from Massachusetts way.”