“Good evening, Mr. Jelliffe,” said the parson, and repeated his greeting to me.  “It feels a little like rain.  I see that you have been playing chess.  Dear me, it is such a long time since I have had a game.”

I told him that this was a very imprudent remark, for which my father would make him pay dearly.  I am afraid his sense of humor is drawn down rather fine, or lying fallow, or something.  I had to explain that he would be captured and made to play whether he wanted to or not, whereat he beamed.

Susie came in again to get our little table ready, and brought up the barrel-top which is her latest improvisation of a tray for Daddy’s use.  I rose to assist in the preparatives but Susie scorned my aid.

“Ye jist set down an’ enj’y yerself,” she commanded me. “’T ain’t every day one has th’ parson to talk ter.  I kin shift ter do it all an’ it’s no use havin’ a dog an’ doin’ yer own barkin’, like the sayin’ is.  Th’ biscuits is done brown an’ th’ kittle’s on the bile.”

She ran out again for our dishes, and Daddy turned to our two friends.

“You are looking at an abject slave and a young lady who is getting fairly tamed, though at times she still rebels.  Both of these young women exercise authority over me all day long until the ownership of my own soul has become a moot question.  When my leg is properly spliced again I shall take that freak Susie to New York and exhibit her as the greatest natural curiosity I have been able to find on the island.”

Mrs. Barnett laughed, ever so pleasantly, and declared that Susie was a good girl whose intentions were of the best.

Then Daddy went on to explain to Mrs. Barnett the mystery of our presence here.  He told how our second mate had boasted of the salmon that swarmed in Sweetapple Cove, and how in a moment of folly he had decided to forsake the Tobique for that year and explore new ground.  I was the one who had suggested camping out, practically, if we could find a little house, while we sent back the yacht for repairs, at St. John’s.  We were expecting it soon.  The accident, of course, had to be thoroughly described.

“It was a beautiful fish, madam, a perfect beauty,” he went on.  “A clean run salmon of twenty pounds, if he was an ounce, and as strong as a horse.  I had to follow him down stream and, first thing you know, I toppled over those confounded rocks and my leg was broken.  The fish went away, towing my best rod and reel towards the Cove.”

The parson said grace and we sat down.  I am happy to say that they enjoyed Susie’s culinary efforts, and we had the nicest chatty time.  Just as we finished we all stopped conversing and listened.  The rain was pelting down upon our little window panes and the wind came in heavy gusts, while, far away, the thunder was rolling.  Then, after a time, we heard steps upon the little porch and I rose to open the door.  It was Dr. Grant, engaged in the very necessary formality of removing his dripping oilskins.