The meal was plentiful and well cooked.  Quincy thought to himself, how much brighter it would have looked, and how much better the food would have tasted if Miss Huldy Mason had been present with her pretty face, joyous laugh, and occasional bright sayings.

After supper the things were quickly taken out by Mandy.  The white tablecloth was removed, and one in which the prevailing color was bright red took its place.

The three men drew up to the open fireplace.  Uncle Ike pulled out his pipe and said, “Do you allow smoking here, ’Zeke?”

’Zekiel replied, “I wish you and Mr. Sawyer to make yourselves perfectly at home and do just as you would if you were in your own house.”

“Well, if I did that,” said Uncle Ike, “you wouldn’t need Mandy, for I should be chief cook and bottle washer myself.”

Uncle Ike lighted his pipe, and Ezekiel took a cigar from his pocket, saying, “I guess I’ll smoke, too.”  Then his face reddened.  He said, “Beg pardon, Mr. Sawyer, I have only this one.”

“That’s all right,” rejoined Quincy, “a cigar would be too heavy for me to-night.  I have a slight headache, and if you will excuse me I will roll a cigarette.”

He took his little case of rice paper from his pocket and also a small pouch of tobacco, and deftly made and lighted a cigarette.  The three men sat smoking, and as Quincy blew a ring into the air he wondered what Sir Walter Raleigh would have said if he could have looked in upon them.

Quincy broke the silence.  “I am afraid, Uncle Ike, that I have caused you much inconvenience by driving you out of that pleasant front room where I found my trunk.”

“Not a bit,” replied Uncle Ike.  “I hate carpets, and I prefer to sleep in my own bed, and what’s more, I wanted to put up my stove, and there was no chance in that front room.  When real cold weather comes I always have a ton of coal for my stove, so I am much better off where I am than I would be downstairs.  By the way, ’Zeke, just tell me all about Alice again.  You won’t mind Mr. Sawyer; he is one of the family now.”

“Well,” said Ezekiel, “Alice was taken sick about the middle of December.  The folks where she boarded sent for a doctor.  It was about eight o’clock in the morning when she was taken, and it was noon before she got easy, so they could get her to bed.  She thought she was getting better; then, she had another attack; then she thought she was getting better again, and the third attack was the worst of the three.  The folks wanted to write to me, but she wouldn’t let them.  When she really did begin to get better, she found out there was something that was worse than being sick.  She found she couldn’t see to read either print or writing, but Alice is a spunky girl, and she wouldn’t give in, even then.  A friend told her to go and see Dr. Moses, who was an eye doctor, and put herself right under his treatment.  She thought she was going to get well right off at first, but when she found it was likely to be a long job, then she gave in and wrote to me.  She has brought her treatment down with her, and the doctor says she will have to go to Boston once a month to see him, as he is too busy to come down here.”