He bowed distantly to Veronica when she entered, but she did not return his bow, though she looked at him fixedly.  Temperance and Hepsey hurried up a fine supper immediately.  A visitor was a creature to be fed.  Feeding together removes embarrassment, and before supper was over we were all acquainted with Mr. Morgeson.  There were three cheerful old ladies spending the week with us—­the widow Desire Carver, and her two maiden sisters, Polly and Serepta Chandler.  They filled the part of chorus in the domestic drama, saying, “Aha,” whenever there was a pause.  Veronica affected these old ladies greatly, and when they were in the house gave them her society.  But for their being there at this time, I doubt whether she would have seen Mr. Morgeson again.  That evening she played for them.  Her wild, pathetic melodies made our visitor’s gray eyes flash with pleasure, and light up his cold face with gleams of feeling; but she was not gratified by his interest.  “I think it strange that you should like my music,” she said crossly.

“Do you” he answered, amused at her tone, “perhaps it is; but why should I not as well as your friends here?” indicating the old ladies.

“Ah, we like it very much,” said the three, clicking their snuff-boxes.

“You, too, play?” he asked me.

“Miss Cassy don’t play,” answered the three, looking at me over their spectacles.  “Miss Verry’s sun puts out her fire.”

“Cassandra does other things better than playing,” Veronica said to Mr. Morgeson.

“Why, Veronica,” I said, surprised, going toward her.

“Go off, go off,” she replied, in an undertone, and struck up a loud march.  He had heard her, and while she played looked at her earnestly.  Then, seeming to forget the presence of the three, he turned and put out his hand to me, with an authority I did not resist.  I laid my hand in his; it was not grasped, but upheld.  Veronica immediately stopped playing.

He stayed several days at our house.  After the first evening we found him taciturn.  He played with Arthur, spoke of his children to him, and promised him a pony if he would go to Rosville.  With father he discussed business matters, and went out with him to the shipyards and offices.  I scarcely remember that he spoke to me, except in a casual way, more than once.  He asked me if I knew whether the sea had any influence upon me; I replied that I had not thought of it.  “There are so many things you have not thought of,” he answered, “that this is not strange.”

Veronica observed him closely; he was aware of it, but was not embarrassed; he met her dark gaze with one keener than her own, and neither talked with the other.  The morning he went away, while the chaise was waiting, which was to go to Milford to meet the stagecoach, and he was inviting us to visit him, a thought seemed to strike him.  “By the way, Morgeson, why not give Miss Cassandra a finish at Rosville?  I have told you of our Academy, and of the advantages which Rosville affords in the way of society.  What do you say, Mrs. Morgeson, will you let her come to my house for a year?”