“Yes—niece by marriage.”
“The one he used to talk so much about? What was her name—Patience—Temp'rance—”
“Thankful—that's my name. I presume likely Uncle Abner did use to talk about me. He always declared he thought as much of me as if I was his own child.”
There was an interval of silence. Mr. Cobb replaced his spectacles and stared through them at his visitor. His manner was peculiar—markedly so.
“I went mate for Cap'n Abner a good many v'yages,” he said, after a moment.
“Yes, I know you did.”
“He—he told you so, I suppose.”
“Yes.”
“What else did he tell you; about—about me, I mean?”
“Why, nothin' 'special that I know of. Why? What was there to tell?”