“Maria, don’t you think you’d better go up-stairs and go to bed?”

“He’s all the time thinkin’ I’m a child,” said Miss Maria, with a grin; “but how awfully he’s mistook.”  Then she added:  “Has that teacher got money enough to support a wife when he marries her?  I don’t suppose his salary amounts to much.  I’m told it’s a little bit of a college he teaches at.”

“I do not know anything about his salary,” said the captain, and again attempted to continue the conversation with the father.

But the daughter was not to be put down.  “When is Olive Asher coming back to your house?” she asked.

The captain turned upon her with a frown.  “I did not say she was coming back at all,” he snapped.

Now old Mr. Port thought it time for him to interfere.  To him Maria had always been a young person to be mildly counseled, but to be firmly punished if she did not obey said counsels.  It was evident that she was now annoying his old friend; Maria had a great habit of annoying people, but she should not annoy Captain Asher.

“Maria,” said Mr. Port, “leave the table instantly, and go to bed.”

Miss Port smiled.  She had finished her dinner, and she folded her napkin and dusted some crumbs from her lap.  She always humored her father when he was really in earnest; he was very old and could not be expected to live much longer, and it was his daughter’s earnest desire that she should be in good favor with him when he died.  With a straight-cut smile at the captain, she rose and left the two old friends to their talk, and went out on the front piazza.  There she saw Mr. Morris, the butcher, on his way home with an empty wagon.  She stepped out to the edge of the sidewalk and stopped him.

“Been to Broadstone?” she asked.

“Yes,” said the butcher with a sigh, and stopping his horse.  Miss Port always wanted to know so much about Broadstone, and he was on his way to his dinner.

“Well,” said Miss Port, “what monkey tricks are going on there now?  Has anybody been drowned yet?  Did you see that young man that’s stayin’ at the toll-gate?”

“Yes,” said the butcher, “I saw him as I was crossing the bridge.  He was in the big boat helping to row.  Pretty near the whole family was in the boat, I take it.”

“That’s like them, just like them!” she exclaimed.  “The next thing we’ll hear will be that they’ve all gone to the bottom together.  I don’t suppose one of them can swim.  Was the captain’s niece standin’ up, or sittin’ down?”

“They were all sitting down,” said the butcher, “and behaving like other people do in a boat.”  And he prepared to go on.

“Stop one minute,” said Miss Port.  “Of course you are goin’ out there day after to-morrow?”

“No,” said Mr. Morris.  “I’m going to-morrow.  They’ve ordered some extra things.”  Then he said, with a sort of conciliatory grin, “I’ll get some more news, and have more time to tell it.”