"Hasn't he a wife?"
"No, not when I last heard of him, which was five years ago. It isn't likely he's married since then."
David was unusually quiet the rest of the day. There was a far-away look in his eyes and nothing interested him, not even the voice of his falls. Betty was quite anxious, and confided her trouble to Mrs. Peterson.
"Do you think he is going to be sick?" she asked. "Suppose he should die, what will become of that great thing he has in his head?"
"Oh, I guess he is all right," Mrs. Peterson soothed. "Perhaps he is thinking out something else, and will surprise us with some new idea."
"Oh, do you think so?" and the girl's eyes grew big with wonder.
"Won't it be great if he does!"
David was much brighter the next morning and sat for some time out upon the verandah. Betty had gone to the office for the mail, as Mrs. Peterson was too busy about the house. She did this nearly every day now, and enjoyed the walk. The captain was always anxious to get his daily paper, and sometimes there would be a letter from an old friend.
It was almost noon when Betty arrived. Her cheeks were flushed more than usual and she was greatly excited.
"What's up now?" the captain enquired. "Haven't been scared, have ye?"
"It's a letter for Mr. David!" she replied. "Just think of that!"