define this; he hardly recognized it in its full extent; but if a
bystander could have looked into his mind, following the course of his
reverie distinctly, as an unbiassed outsider might, he would have said,
"Stephen, man, what is this? What are these two women to you, that your
imagination is taking these wild and superfluous leaps into their
history?"

There was hardly a possible speculation as to their past history, as to
their looks, as to their future life under his roof, that Stephen did not
indulge in, as he stood leaning with his folded arms on the gate, in the
gray November twilight, where we first found him. His thoughts, as was
natural, centred most around the younger woman.

"Poor thing! That was a mighty hard fate. Only nineteen years old
now,--six years younger than I am; and how much more she must know of life
than I do. I suppose she can't be a lady, exactly,--being a sea captain's
wife. I wonder if she's pretty? I think Harley might have told me more
about her. He might know I'd be very curious.

"I wonder if mother'll take to them? If she does, it will be a great
comfort to her. She 's so alone." And Stephen's face clouded, as he
reflected how very seldom the monotony of the invalid's life was broken
now by a friendly visit from a neighbor.

"If they should turn out really social, neighborly people that we liked,
we might move away the old side-board from before the hall door, and go in
and out that way, as the Jacobses used to. It would be unlucky though, I
reckon, to use that door. I guess I'll plaster it up some day." Like all
people of deep sentiment, Stephen had in his nature a vein of something
which bordered on superstition.