"I hope so, Mary, but I cannot understand it. Where has the steamer been and why has she not been reported out?"
"Can this be a mistake?" asked the woman plaintively, holding out the telegram.
"No, I think not."
"Then let us go to Boston at once and meet him."
"That would be unwise. By the time we could reach there, Harry—if he is aboard—might be on his way here. It is best to wait, Mary, and hope for the best. In the meantime, I will wire to my agent in Boston to meet the steamer."
With a sigh of resignation, Mrs. Hamilton resumed her weary vigil. Suddenly she started up with a new idea.
"Edward," she said, "if she is coming in she will pass out there."
"Yes, but too far out for you to see her, Mary."
"Never mind; bring me the glasses. It will help to pass the weary hours of waiting."
Mr. Hamilton brought her a pair of marine glasses, and rearranging the cushions behind her head with a tender hand, he left her eagerly scanning the horizon for some sign of a passing steamer.