ANNE'S HOUSE OF DREAMS. Lucy Maud Montgomery

they were bestowed felt that she was being offered a queen’s tribute in a kingly fashion.

      Captain Jim was a high-souled, simple-minded old man, with eternal youth in his eyes and heart. He had a tall, rather ungainly figure, somewhat stooped, yet suggestive of great strength and endurance; a clean-shaven face deeply lined and bronzed; a thick mane of iron-gray hair falling quite to his shoulders, and a pair of remarkably blue, deep-set eyes, which sometimes twinkled and sometimes dreamed, and sometimes looked out seaward with a wistful quest in them, as of one seeking something precious and lost. Anne was to learn one day what it was for which Captain Jim looked.

      It could not be denied that Captain Jim was a homely man. His spare jaws, rugged mouth, and square brow were not fashioned on the lines of beauty; and he had passed through many hardships and sorrows which had marked his body as well as his soul; but though at first sight Anne thought him plain she never thought anything more about it — the spirit shining through that rugged tenement beautified it so wholly.

      They gathered gaily around the supper table. The hearth fire banished the chill of the September evening, but the window of the dining room was open and sea breezes entered at their own sweet will. The view was magnificent, taking in the harbor and the sweep of low, purple hills beyond. The table was heaped with Mrs. Doctor’s delicacies but the piece de resistance was undoubtedly the big platter of sea trout.

      “Thought they’d be sorter tasty after travelling,” said Captain Jim. “They’re fresh as trout can be, Mistress Blythe. Two hours ago they were swimming in the Glen Pond.”

      “Who is attending to the light tonight, Captain Jim?” asked Doctor Dave.

      “Nephew Alec. He understands it as well as I do. Well, now, I’m real glad you asked me to stay to supper. I’m proper hungry — didn’t have much of a dinner today.”

      “I believe you half starve yourself most of the time down at that light,” said Mrs. Doctor Dave severely. “You won’t take the trouble to get up a decent meal.”

      “Oh, I do, Mistress Doctor, I do,” protested Captain Jim. “Why, I live like a king gen’rally. Last night I was up to the Glen and took home two pounds of steak. I meant to have a spanking good dinner today.”

      “And what happened to the steak?” asked Mrs. Doctor Dave. “Did you lose it on the way home?”

      “No.” Captain Jim looked sheepish. “Just at bedtime a poor, ornery sort of dog came along and asked for a night’s lodging. Guess he belonged to some of the fishermen ‘long shore. I couldn’t turn the poor cur out — he had a sore foot. So I shut him in the porch, with an old bag to lie on, and went to bed. But somehow I couldn’t sleep. Come to think it over, I sorter remembered that the dog looked hungry.”

      “And you got up and gave him that steak — ALL that steak,” said Mrs. Doctor Dave, with a kind of triumphant reproof.

      “Well, there wasn’t anything else TO give him,” said Captain Jim deprecatingly. “Nothing a dog’d care for, that is. I reckon he WAS hungry, for he made about two bites of it. I had a fine sleep the rest of the night but my dinner had to be sorter scanty — potatoes and point, as you might say. The dog, he lit out for home this morning. I reckon HE weren’t a vegetarian.”

      “The idea of starving yourself for a worthless dog!” sniffed Mrs. Doctor.

      “You don’t know but he may be worth a lot to somebody,” protested Captain Jim. “He didn’t LOOK of much account, but you can’t go by looks in jedging a dog. Like meself, he might be a real beauty inside. The First Mate didn’t approve of him, I’ll allow. His language was right down forcible. But the First Mate is prejudiced. No use in taking a cat’s opinion of a dog. ‘Tennyrate, I lost my dinner, so this nice spread in this dee-lightful company is real pleasant. It’s a great thing to have good neighbors.”

      “Who lives in the house among the willows up the brook?” asked Anne.

      “Mrs. Dick Moore,” said Captain Jim—”and her husband,” he added, as if by way of an afterthought.

      Anne smiled, and deduced a mental picture of Mrs. Dick Moore from Captain Jim’s way of putting it; evidently a second Mrs. Rachel Lynde.

      “You haven’t many neighbors, Mistress Blythe,” Captain Jim went on. “This side of the harbor is mighty thinly settled. Most of the land belongs to Mr. Howard up yander past the Glen, and he rents it out for pasture. The other side of the harbor, now, is thick with folks—’specially MacAllisters. There’s a whole colony of MacAllisters you can’t throw a stone but you hit one. I was talking to old Leon Blacquiere the other day. He’s been working on the harbor all summer. ‘Dey’re nearly all MacAllisters over thar,’ he told me. ‘Dare’s Neil MacAllister and Sandy MacAllister and William MacAllister and Alec MacAllister and Angus MacAllister — and I believe dare’s de Devil MacAllister.’”

      “There are nearly as many Elliotts and Crawfords,” said Doctor Dave, after the laughter had subsided. “You know, Gilbert, we folk on this side of Four Winds have an old saying—’From the conceit of the Elliotts, the pride of the MacAllisters, and the vainglory of the Crawfords, good Lord deliver us.’”

      “There’s a plenty of fine people among them, though,” said Captain Jim. “I sailed with William Crawford for many a year, and for courage and endurance and truth that man hadn’t an equal. They’ve got brains over on that side of Four Winds. Mebbe that’s why this side is sorter inclined to pick on ‘em. Strange, ain’t it, how folks seem to resent anyone being born a mite cleverer than they be.”

      Doctor Dave, who had a forty years’ feud with the over-harbor people, laughed and subsided.

      “Who lives in that brilliant emerald house about half a mile up the road?” asked Gilbert.

      Captain Jim smiled delightedly.

      “Miss Cornelia Bryant. She’ll likely be over to see you soon, seeing you’re Presbyterians. If you were Methodists she wouldn’t come at all. Cornelia has a holy horror of Methodists.”

      “She’s quite a character,” chuckled Doctor Dave. “A most inveterate man-hater!”

      “Sour grapes?” queried Gilbert, laughing.

      “No, ‘tisn’t sour grapes,” answered Captain Jim seriously. “Cornelia could have had her pick when she was young. Even yet she’s only to say the word to see the old widowers jump. She jest seems to have been born with a sort of chronic spite agin men and Methodists. She’s got the bitterest tongue and the kindest heart in Four Winds. Wherever there’s any trouble, that woman is there, doing everything to help in the tenderest way. She never says a harsh word about another woman, and if she likes to card us poor scalawags of men down I reckon our tough old hides can stand it.”

      “She always speaks well of you, Captain Jim,” said Mrs. Doctor.

      “Yes, I’m afraid so. I don’t half like it. It makes me feel as if there must be something sorter unnateral about me.”

      CHAPTER 7

      THE SCHOOLMASTER’S BRIDE

      Table of Contents

      “Who was the first bride who came to this house, Captain Jim?” Anne asked, as they sat around the fireplace after supper.

      “Was she a part of the story I’ve heard was connected with this house?” asked Gilbert. “Somebody told me you could tell it, Captain Jim.”

      “Well, yes, I know it. I reckon I’m the only person living in Four Winds now that can remember the schoolmaster’s bride as she was when she come to the Island. She’s been dead this thirty year, but she was one of them women you never forget.”

      “Tell us the story,” pleaded