“Humph!  I’ve got used to bein’ alone.  As for Miss Ruth, I don’t think she’s scart of anythin’.”

“Well, I was sort of nervous about you, if you wa’n’t about yourself.  ’Twas consider’ble of a gale of wind.  I thought one spell I’d blow out of the top of the tower.”

“So did I. I could see your shadow movin’ ’round up there once in a while.  What made you come out on the gallery in the worst of it night afore last?”

“Oh, the birds was smashin’ themselves to pieces against the glass same as they always do in a storm, and I . . .  But say! ’twas after twelve when I came out.  How’d you come to see me?  What was your doin’ up that time of night?”

Mrs. Bascom’s color deepened.  She seemed put out by the question.

“So much racket a body couldn’t sleep,” she explained sharply.  “I thought the shingles would lift right off the roof.”

“But you wa’n’t lookin’ at the shingles.  You was lookin’ at the lighthouses; you jest said so.  Emeline, was you lookin’ for me?  Was you worried about me?”

He bent forward eagerly.

“Hush!” she said, “you’ll wake up the other woman-hater.”

“I don’t care.  I don’t care if I wake up all creation.  Emeline, I believe you was worried about me, same as I was about you.  More’n that,” he added, conviction and exultation in his tone, “I don’t believe ’twas eggs that fetched you here this mornin’ at all.  I believe you came to find out if we—­if I was all right.  Didn’t you?”

“I didn’t come to see you, be sure of that,” with emphatic scorn.

“I know.  But you was goin’ to see Brown and find out from him.  Answer me.  Answer me now, didn’t—­”

She stepped toward the door.  He extended an arm and held her back.

“You answer me,” he commanded.

She tried to pass him, but his arm was like an iron bar.  She hesitated a moment and then laughed nervously.

“You certainly have took to orderin’ folks round since the old days,” she said.  “Why, yes, then; I did come to find out if you hadn’t got cold, or somethin’.  You’re such a child and I’m such a soft-headed fool I couldn’t help it, I cal’late?”

“Emeline, s’pose I had got cold.  S’pose you found I was sick—­what then?”

“Why—­why, then I guess likely I’d have seen the doctor on my way through Eastboro.  I shall be goin’ that way to-morrer when I leave here.”

“When you leave here?  What do you mean by that?”

“Just what I say.  Miss Graham’s goin’ to Boston to-morrer, and I’m goin’ with her—­as far as the city.”

“But—­but you’re comin’ back!”

“What should I come back here for?  My summer job’s over.  If you want to know, my principal reason for comin’ here this mornin’ was to say good-by—­to Mr. Brown, of course.”

Seth’s arm dropped.  He leaned heavily against the doorpost.

“You’re goin’ away!” he exclaimed.  “You’re goin’ away!  Where?”