At this minute a man upon a rapidly trotting pony stopped at the toll-gate.

“Excuse me one minute,” continued the captain, “here is a person who can not wait,” and stepping outside he said good morning to a bright-looking young fellow riding a sturdy pony and wearing on his cap a metal plate engraved “United States Rural Delivery.”

The carrier brought but one letter to the tollhouse, and that was for Captain Asher himself.  As the man rode away the captain thought he might as well open his letter before he went back.  This would give the ladies a chance to talk further over the matter.  He read the letter, which was not long, put it in his pocket, and then entered the tollhouse.  There was now no doubt or sign of disturbance on his features.

“I have considered your invitation, madam,” said he, “and as I see Olive wants to visit you, I shall not interfere.”

“Of course she does,” cried Mrs. Easterfield, springing to her feet, “and I thank you ever and ever so much, Captain Asher.  And now, my dear,” said she to Olive, “I am going to send the carriage for you to-morrow morning.”  And with this she put her arm around the girl and kissed her.  Then, having warmly shaken hands with the captain, she departed.

“Do you know, Uncle John,” said Olive, “I believe if you were twenty years older she would have kissed you.”

With a grim smile the captain considered; would he have been willing to accept those additional years under the circumstances?  He could not immediately make up his mind, and contented himself with the reflection that Olive did not think him old enough for the indiscriminate caresses of young people.

CHAPTER IV

The Son of an Old Shipmate.

When Olive came down to breakfast the next morning she half repented that she had consented to go away and leave her uncle for so long a time.  But when she made known her state of mind the captain laughed at her.

“My child,” said he, “I want you to go.  Of course, I did not take to the notion at first, but I did not consider then what you will have to tell when you come home.  The people of Glenford will be your everlasting debtors.  It might be a good thing to invite Maria Port out here.  You could give her the best time she ever had in her life, telling her about the Broadstone people.”

“Maria Port, indeed!” said Olive.  “But we won’t talk of her.  And you really are willing I should go?”

“I speak the truth when I say I want you to go,” replied the captain.

Whereupon Olive assured him that he was truly a good uncle.

After the Easterfield carriage had rolled away with Olive alone on the back seat, waving her handkerchief, the captain requested Jane to take entire charge of the toll-gate for a time; and, having retired to his own room, he took from his pocket the letter he had received the day before.

“I must write an answer to this,” he said, “before the postman comes.”