of getting divorced. He's all for George; and it's as much as I can do to
put up with him."

"No matter. That does n't alter the appearance to people here. I don't
wish you to go with him alone any more."

"Well, Grace, I won't," said Mrs. Maynard earnestly. "I won't, indeed.
And that makes me think: he wanted you to go along this morning."

"To go along? Wanted me--What are you talking about?"

"Why, I suppose that's his boat, out there, now." Mrs. Maynard pointed to
a little craft just coming to anchor inside the reef. "He said he wanted
me to take a sail with him, this morning; and he said he would come up
and ask you, too. I do hope you'll go, Grace. It's just as calm; and he
always has a man with him to help sail the boat, so there is n't the
least danger." Grace looked at her in silent sorrow, and Mrs. Maynard
went on with sympathetic seriousness: "Oh! there's one thing I want to
ask you about, Grace: I don't like to have any concealments from you."
Grace did not speak, but she permitted Mrs. Maynard to proceed: "Barlow
recommended it, and he's lived here a great while. His brother took it,
and he had the regular old New England consumption. I thought I shouldn't
like to try it without your knowing it."

"Try it? What are you talking about, Louise?"

"Why, whiskey with white-pine chips in it."

Grace rose, and moved towards the door, with the things dropping from her
lap. One of these was a spool, that rolled down the steps and out upon