"He's well. Told me to tell you he'd be after you for lobsters before long."
The old man gave a toothless smile. "Miss Lacey smaht?" he inquired.
"I suppose so. I didn't see her this time."
Sylvia's eyes began to look startled and questioning. Old Lem met her gaze. "Ye've got the same name," he remarked curiously, as the fact occurred to him, "same as Miss Marthy. Miss Marthy ain't no kin to you, is she, Thinkright?"
"No, except through this child. This little girl is a link."
"The missin' link, eh?" returned Cap'n Lem. "Well, all I kin say is she don't look it," and his shoulders twitched with delight. "The missin' link," he repeated from time to time, the utterance being always followed by a fresh convulsion of mirth as his sea-blue eyes roved to the visitor's grave face.
"Do they come here, Cousin Jacob?" asked Sylvia uneasily, under cover of the rattle of the wagon, "Uncle Calvin and Aunt Martha?"
"Yes, sometimes."
"Will they be likely to, soon?" asked the girl, her face hardening.
Her cousin shook his head, and she saw compassion in his shining gaze.