Grandmother lifted her clear eyes to his.
“Yes, Grandfather!” she said.
“He is not good enough for you,” said Grandfather, “but—well! well! you are both young, both young, and youth is a great thing. I was young myself—a long, long time ago, my dear.” He was silent.
Grandmother knelt down beside him, and took his hand in her own two, stroking it and singing softly.
“Silver sails and a cedar paddle,
For to set my spirit free.”
Presently he looked up, and spoke hurriedly, in a strange, confused voice.
“Mary!” he said. “Are you there?”
Now Mary was the name of the wife of his youth. Grandmother was silent.