"You don't see nothin' of 'em?"
"Not yet."
There was an anxious frown on his forehead.
"Why don't you eat somethin'?" suggested she. "It might take your mind off worryin'."
"I ain't worryin', Tiny," was the confident reply. "The boat's all right."
"S'pose it should be snagged or somethin' outside the bay?" she ventured. "I wish to goodness they'd come back. Look, here's Delight an' Abbie comin' through the grove. Likely they've been gettin' uneasy, too."
Sure enough, moving among the low pines that shaded the slope between the Spence and Brewster houses they saw the two women.
Abbie was stouter now than when she had come as a bride to Zenas Henry's white cottage, but there was a serenity in her mien that softened her expression into charming womanliness. As she neared the shed she glanced at Willie with an uneasiness she could not wholly conceal.
"Don't it seem to you, Willie, that it's gettin' most time for 'em to be gettin' home?"
"You ain't nervous, Abbie," smiled the little old man.