“Oh, but, Aunty, you’re going in swimming with us some day,” coaxed Polly.
“Deed, I wouldn’t any more’n I’d step into an open grabe and pull de cover in after me,” protested Welcome. “Last night I couldn’t sleep a wink a-listening to de rolling ob de waves.”
“Girls, just look out there,” cried Kate suddenly, as she rose and pointed over the bay towards the Point Light. It was past sunset, the purple hour, as Polly always called it, and the whole world lay wrapped in softest violet. From somewhere beyond the Point, a deep, long-drawn whistle sounded, then another, then another. A faint sound of music drifted to them on the night air, and as the steamer rounded, they caught a glimpse of her cabin lights, a row of gleaming diamonds against the gloom of the twilight. Then a search-light sent a quick arm of radiance flashing over the bay, and for a second the little group on the porch were right in its path, before it swept on.
“I didn’t know any steamers ran in here,” said Polly. “Isn’t that splendid? Perhaps it comes often, and it’s really company just to see it go by.”
“It must be the Portland boat,” said Kate. “There’s one that makes a landing at Eastport, Tom said, and stops first at the hotel pier, before it goes up through the inlet.”
“Then that must be the steamer that grandfather meant, when he said he would go back by boat. He’ll go from Eastport to Portland, then down the coast to Boston, and so on straight south.”
“Then we’ll be alone away off here,” said Isabel, sadly. “Doesn’t it seem deserted? Think of it when there’s a storm.”
“And the thunders roll from pole to pole,” groaned Polly, mischievously. “Sue, get your mandolin, quick. Let’s play something that will ‘soothe this restless feeling and banish the thoughts of day.’”
Across the inlet made by the Knob’s projection into the bay, the sound of music floated even to Fair Havens, and Nancy stopped her evening task of washing the supper dishes to listen at the open door. The girls over at the Knob were singing, with the three mandolins and guitar giving a splendid accompaniment. Across the water the melody seemed indescribably softened and enhanced, as the gay, girlish tones rang out:
“Oh, a life on the ocean wave,