With the fire, the humming kettle, and the cat between us, and the
table laid for tea, Mrs. Williams speculated with interest and hope
about those young strangers. Did I notice what badge was on his cap?
My eyes were better than hers. She trusted it would be all right for
them. They were starting very young. It was better to start young.
She looked such a good little soul, that girl. It was pleasant to know
that house was let at last. It had been empty too long. It was
getting a name. People could not help remembering why it was empty.
But young life would make it bright.

"People say things only change, but I like to think they change for the
better, don't you? But Williams, he will have it they change for the
worse. I don't know, I'm sure. He thinks nothing really good except
the old days." She laughed quietly, bending to tickle the cat's
ear--"nothing good at all except the old days. Even the wrecks were
more like wrecks." She looked at me, smiling.

"As you know," she said, "there's many men who follow the sea with
homes in this street, but Williams is so proud and strong-willed. He
says he doesn't want to hear about them. What do they know about the
sea? You know his way. What do they know about the sea? That's the
way he talks, doesn't he? But surely the sea is the same for us all.
He won't have it, though. Williams is so vain and determined."

The captain knocked. There was no doubt about that knock. The door
surrendered to him. His is a peremptory summons. The old master
mariner brought his bulk with dignity into the room, and his wife,
reaching up to that superior height, too slight for the task,
ministered to the overcoat of the big figure which was making, all
unconsciously, disdainful noises in its throat. It would have been