But now Olive had written that she wanted to tell her a lot of things which could not go into a letter, and so the Broadstone carriage stopped again at the toll-gate.

Two great things had Olive to tell, and she was really glad that her uncle was not at home so that she might get at once to the telling.

In the first place, old Mr. Port was dead, and Captain Asher was in great trouble about this.  Of course, he could not keep away from the deathbed of his old friend, nor could he neglect to do all honor to his memory, but it was a terrible thing for him to have to go into the house where Maria Port lived.  After what had happened it was almost too much for his courage, although he was a brave man.  But he had conquered his feelings, and he was there now.  The funeral would be to-morrow.

When Mrs. Easterfield heard all that Olive had to tell her about Maria Port, her heart went out to that brave man who kept the toll-gate.

The next thing that Olive had to tell was that she had heard from her father, who wrote that he would soon arrive in this country; that he would then go West, where he would marry Olive’s former schoolmate; and that, on their wedding tour, he would make a little visit at the tollhouse so that Olive might see her new mother.

“Now, isn’t this enough,” cried Olive, “to make any girl spread her wings and fly to the ends of the earth?  But I have no wings; they have all gone away in a dog-cart.  But I don’t feel about that as I used to feel,” she continued, a little hardness coming into her face.  “I am settled now just the same as if I were married, and father and Edith Malcolmsen may come just as soon as they please.  They shall make no plans for me; I am going to stay here with Uncle John.  This house is mine now, and I am seriously thinking of having it painted.  I shall stay here just as if I were one of those trees, and my father and my new mother—­”

Here tears came into Olive’s eyes and Mrs. Easterfield stopped her.

“Olive,” said she, “I will give you a piece of advice.  When your father and his young wife come here, treat her exactly as if she were your old friend.  If you do so I think you will get along very well.  This is partly selfish advice, for I greatly desire the opportunity to treat your father hospitably.  He was my friend when I was a girl, you remember, and I looked up to him with very great admiration.”

And so these two friends sat and talked, and talked, and talked until it was positively shameful, considering that the Broadstone horses were accustomed to be fed and watered at noon, and that the coachman was very hungry.

When, at last, Mrs. Easterfield drove home, and it must have been three in the afternoon, she left Olive very much comforted, even in regard to the unfortunate obligations which had fallen upon her uncle.  For now that her old father had gone, all intercourse with the Port woman would cease.