sound of their pelting, as they were dropped on the tin, was lost in
their multitude; then she said, with a sharp, querulous, pathetic
impatience, "Well, father, I suppose you're thinkin' about Lyddy."

"Yes, Maria, I be," returned her father, with uncommon plumpness,
as if here now were something he had made up his mind to stand to.
"I been thinkin' that Lyddy's a woman grown, as you may say."

"Yes," admitted Miss Maria, "she's a woman, as far forth as that goes.
What put it into your head?"

"Well, I d'know as I know. But it's just like this: I got to thinkin'
whether she mightn't get to feelin' rather lonely on the voyage,
without any other woman to talk to."

"I guess," said Miss Maria, tranquilly, "she's goin' to feel lonely
enough at times, any way, poor thing! But I told her if she wanted
advice or help about anything just to go to the stewardess. That
Mrs. Bland that spent the summer at the Parkers' last year was always
tellin' how they went to the stewardess for most everything, and she
give her five dollars in gold when they got into Boston. I shouldn't
want Lyddy should give so much as that, but I should want she should
give something, as long's it's the custom."

"They don't have 'em on sailin' vessels, Captain Jenness said; they
only have 'em on steamers," said Deacon Latham.

"Have what?" asked Miss Maria, sharply.

"Stewardesses. They've got a cabin-boy."