A wan smile rewarded him.
"Afterward Jenny used it for chickens, Mrs. Wright says," she returned.
"Yes; but there never was an old hen there that come up to Granny Foster, you bet."
"How long ago does that seem to you, James?" asked Eliza, after a pause.
"As if 'twas yesterday," he responded valiantly.
His memory was picturing the little girl in plaid gingham and sunbonnet who could outrun any boy on the island. That sunbonnet was never in place, but always hung down Eliza's back, the strings tied at her throat. Captain James remembered to have thought there was something very pleasing about that throat.
"It seems a hundred years ago to me," said Eliza quietly.
"Whew! You must 'a' lived fast in New York," returned Captain James. "That's an awful record."
"Do you suppose I'll ever get used to the stillness again, James? I believe if a pin was to drop in this grass you could hear it."