"Oh, the Blakes, then. She won't have much to do, Dan's wife died to-day; poor beggar, he looks heartbroken."
"Your wife may be dead some day; then you will know how dreadfully he feels," I said, hotly. The flippant tone in face of such sorrow distressed me. He gave me a merry look as he said: "There are always plenty left to replace the lost ones. A wife is far easier got than a horse; one like Faery, for instance."
I shut my mouth firmly and turned my head away to watch the white sails idly mirrored, in the still waters, I knew he was furtively watching me, and this alone held back my tears, as I thought of poor Blake's desolate hearthstone, as well as my own heart's loneliness in this wide continent of strangers.
"Mr. Winthrop regretted being away when you arrived, but he expected us to be kind to you; so we must not quarrel first thing." My companion said, with entire change of tone.
"I quarrel pretty easily," I stammered, "my temper is very abrupt."
"Most of us have quick tempers; but, I think, you, at least, have a generous one."
Then I recollected abrupt was not a very suitable word to couple with temper. Taken altogether, I found this drive home with Faery and her master anything but enjoyable.