From within the great obscuring veil she had spoken, had called his name,—had fulfilled the promise she had given while in the life!
"'Tis naught for Sun to shine," he quoted. "God works in a mysterious way His wonders to perform. There is no death, says my Winifred. Then must I strive with all my soul to meet her in the great beyond! But I must not brood over this matter. I feel the need of fellowship. I'll send for Parkins and put my story before him. I must have some one in whom to confide," and forthwith he put his plan into action.
Never was a man more seemingly delighted than William Parkins when a "long distance" call from the Master of Dreamy Hollow invited him over for the week-end.
"I'm just beginning to want to pal with somebody I know. Five weeks is a long time to wait for friends to invite themselves, so I'm going to start in from my end. You're first on the list, and the first invitation is yours. I won't take no for an answer."
"You will not have to, my dear fellow. I'm most happy to have the opportunity. Which way shall I go out?"
"My boat will take you on board at your pleasure any time after noon on Friday, and will land you back at the same Forty-second Street Pier at such time as you suggest."
"Well, now, that would be perfectly bully! Let's see—your estate joins the Sawyer Place, does it not?"
"Yes—on the east. His hedgerow is the dividing line between us."
"Then I know exactly how to get to you, so I shall taxi over," replied Parkins with enthusiasm. "You see I can kill two birds with one stone by stealing away Friday afternoon and motoring over to my fishing hut at Patchogue—wonderful flounders down there! I have my own boat and I want to see what condition she's in, so I'll get over to your place by noon on Sunday. How does that suit your convenience?"
"Nothing could be better."