Eph, in his shirt-sleeves, his hands in his pockets, was standing, his back against the bench, surveying, with something of a mechanic’s eye, the frame of a boat which was set up on the floor.

He looked up and colored slightly.  The doctor took out a cigarette, lit it, sat down on the bench, and smoked, clasping one knee in his hands and eying the boat.

“Centre-board?” he asked, at length.

“Yes,” said Eph.

“Cat-rig?”

“Yes.”

“Going fishing?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“I was brought up to sail a boat,” said the doctor, “and I often go fishing in summer, when I get a chance.  I shall want to try your boat some time.”

No reply.

“The timbers are not seasoned, are they?  They look like pitch-pine, just out of the woods.  Won’t they warp?”

“No.  Pitch-pine goes right in, green.  I s’pose the pitch keeps it, if it’s out of the sun.”

“Where did you cut it?”

Eph colored a little.

“In my back lot.”

The doctor smoked on calmly, and studied the boat.

“I don’t know you,” said Eph, relaxing a little.

“Good reason,” said the doctor.  “I’ve only been here two years;” and after a moment’s pause, he added:  “I am the doctor here, now.  You’ve heard of my father, Dr. Burt, of Broad River?”

Eph nodded assent; everybody knew him, all through the country;—­a fatherly old man, who rode on long journeys at everybody’s call, and never sent in his bills.

The visitor had a standing with Eph at once.

“Doctors never pick at folks,” he said to himself—­“at any rate, not old Dr. Burt’s son.”

“I used to come here to see your mother,” said the doctor, “when she was sick.  She used to talk a great deal about you, and said she wanted me to get acquainted with you, when your time was out.”

Eph started, but said nothing.

“She was a good woman, Aunt Lois,” added the doctor; “one of the best women I ever saw.”

“I don’t want anybody to bother himself on my account,” said Eph.  “I ask no favors.”

“You will have to take favors, though,” said the doctor, “before the winter is over.  You will be careless and get sick; you have been living for a long time entirely in-doors, with regular hours and work and food.  Now you are going to live out-of-doors, and get your own meals, irregularly.  You didn’t have on a thick coat the other night, when I saw you at the store.”

“I haven’t got any that’s large enough for me,” said Eph, a little less harshly, “and I’ve got to keep my money for other things.”

“Then look out and wear flannel shirts enough,” said the doctor, “if you want to be independent.  But before I go, I want to go into the house.  I want my wife to see Aunt Lois’s room, and the view from the west window;” and he led the way to the sleigh.