"Jessie," called Mr. Graham, who saw them too, "Jessie, hadn't you better come out and gather up the cranberries you dropped so suddenly when the omnibus drove up?"
"Father, how can you?" and the young lady immediately appeared, and greeted Walter quite naturally.
He evidently was embarrassed, for he hastened to present her to Captain Murdock, who, feeling, intuitively, that he beheld his future daughter-in-law, took both her soft chubby hands in his and held them there, while he said, a little mischievously:
"I have heard much of you, Miss Jessie, from my so—, my friend, I mean," he added, quickly, correcting himself, but not so quickly that Jessie did not detect what he meant to say.
One by one she scanned his features, then the deacon's, then Walter's, and then, with a flash of intelligence in her bright eyes, turned to the latter for a confirmation of her suspicions. Walter understood her meaning, and with an answering nod, said softly:
"By and by."
"The dinner will be cold," suggested Mrs. Howland, and then the deacon rose, and leaning on his cane, walked into the adjoining room, when he took his seat at the head of the table.
"There's a chair for you," Jessie said to Walter who, following the natural laws of attraction, kept close to her side. "There's one for you and him, too, my old playhouse," and she pointed to the leathern chair.
"Sit here, Captain Murdock,—here," said Walter, hurrying on as he saw Mrs. Howland giving the stranger another seat than that.
"Walter," and there was reproach in the deacon's voice, "not in your father's chair."