outside, shifting slowly backwards and forwards from Little Traverse
to Death's Door, and up into this curve, like a waving curtain. Those
silks, now, came from the steamer; trunks, you know. But I have never
told Silver; she might ask where were the people to whom they
belonged. You do not like the idea? Neither do I. But how could we
help the drowning when we were not there, and these things were going
for a song down at Beaver. The child loves pretty things; what could a
poor man do? Have a glass of punch; I'll get it ready in no time.' He
bustled about, and then came back with the full glasses. 'You won't
tell her? I may have done wrong in the matter, but it would kill me to
have the child lose faith in me,' he said, humbly.

'Are you going to keep the girl shut up here forever?' said Waring,
half touched, half disgusted; the old fellow had looked abject as he
pleaded.

'That is it; no,' said Fog, eagerly. 'She has been but a child all
this time, you see, and my sister taught her well. We did the best we
could. But as soon as I have a little more, just a little more, I
intend to move to one of the towns down the lake, and have a small
house and everything comfortable. I have planned it all out, I shall
have--'

He rambled on, garrulously detailing all his fancies and projects
while the younger man sipped his punch (which was very good), listened
until he was tired, fell into a doze, woke and listened awhile longer,
and then, wearied out, proposed bed.

'Certainly. But, as I was saying--'