Martha uttered a little scream. “Goodness gracious me!” she exclaimed. “Lucy Larcom, you bad cat, how you did scare me!”
Lucy leaped soundlessly over the clump of huckleberry bushes and galloped gayly into the distance, his tail waving like a banner.
“WELL!” observed his mistress; “for a cat as old as you are I must say!”
“He feels young to-night,” said Galusha. “It must be the—ah—moonlight, I think. Really, I—ah—I feel surprisingly young, myself. I do, indeed!”
Martha laughed blithely. They came to the abrupt little slope at the southwestern edge of the government property and when he offered to help her down she took his hand and sprang down herself, almost as lightly and easily as Lucy could have done it. Galusha laughed, too, light-heartedly as a boy. His spectacles fell off and he laughed at that.
The minute afterward they arrived at the crest of the knoll. Another moment and the silhouetted figures of Lulie Hallett and Nelson Howard appeared from behind the clump of bayberry bushes and walked onward together, his arm about her waist. The pair on the knoll saw the parting.
Lulie ran up the path and the door of the light keeper's cottage closed behind her. Howard disappeared around the bend of the hill. Martha and Galusha turned hastily and began walking toward home. Neither spoke until they were almost there. Then Miss Phipps, apparently feeling that something should be said, observed: “The moon was—was real pretty, wasn't it, Mr. Bangs?”
Galusha started. “Eh?” he queried. “Oh, yes! yes, indeed! Ah—quite so.”
He made the next remark also; it was quite irrelevant.
“Youth,” he said, musingly. “Youth is a wonderful thing, really it is.”