Captain Jim’s eyes were shining. They were looking at the Four Winds Harbor of sixty years agone, with a battered old ship sailing through the sunrise splendor.
“And Persis Leigh was on board?” asked Anne.
“Yes—her and the captain’s wife. They’d had an awful passage—storm after storm—and their provisions give out, too. But there they were at last. When Persis Leigh stepped onto the old wharf John Selwyn took her in his arms—and folks stopped cheering and begun to cry. I cried myself, though ’twas years, mind you, afore I’d admit it. Ain’t it funny how ashamed boys are of tears?”
“Was Persis Leigh beautiful?” asked Anne.
“Well, I don’t know that you’d call her beautiful exactly—I—don’t—know,” said Captain Jim slowly. “Somehow, you never got so far along as to wonder if she was handsome or not. It jest didn’t matter. There was something so sweet and winsome about her that you had to love her, that was all. But she was pleasant to look at—big, clear, hazel eyes and heaps of glossy brown hair, and an English skin. John and her were married at our house that night at early candle-lighting; everybody from far and near was there to see it and we all brought them down here afterwards. Mistress Selwyn lighted the fire, and we went away and left them sitting here, jest as John had seen in that vision of his. A strange thing—a strange thing! But I’ve seen a turrible lot of strange things in my time.”
Captain Jim shook his head sagely.
“It’s a dear story,” said Anne, feeling that for once she had got enough romance to satisfy her. “How long did they live here?”
“Fifteen years. I ran off to sea soon after they were married, like the young scalawag I was. But every time I come back from a voyage I’d head for here, even before I went home, and tell Mistress Selwyn all about it. Fifteen happy years! They had a sort of talent for happiness, them two. Some folks are like that, if you’ve noticed. They COULDN’T be unhappy for long, no matter what happened. They quarrelled once or twice, for they was both high-sperrited. But Mistress Selwyn says to me once, says she, laughing in that pretty way of hers, 'I felt dreadful when John and I quarrelled, but underneath it all I was very happy because I had such a nice husband to quarrel with and make it up with.’ Then they moved to Charlottetown, and Ned Russell bought this house and brought his bride here. They were a gay young pair, as I remember them. Miss Elizabeth Russell was Alec’s sister. She came to live with them a year or so later, and she was a creature of mirth, too. The walls of this house must be sorter SOAKED with laughing and good times. You’re the third bride I’ve seen come here, Mistress Blythe—and the handsomest.”
Captain Jim contrived to give his sunflower compliment the delicacy of a violet, and Anne wore it proudly. She was looking her best that night, with the bridal rose on her cheeks and the love-light in her eyes; even gruff old Doctor Dave gave her an approving glance, and told his wife, as they drove home together, that that red-headed wife of the boy’s was something of a beauty.
“I must be getting back to the light,” announced Captain Jim. “I’ve enj’yed this evening something tremenjus.”