“It’s more beautiful than the clouds,” said Winnie.

“It is a wonderful evening,” said Winthrop, as he set his oars more earnestly in the water and the little boat skimmed along.

“But dear Governor, where are you going?”

“Going to land, somewhere.”

“To land!  But it’ll be time to go home, won’t it?  We’re a great way from there.”

“We’ll take a short cut home,” said Winthrop, looking round for a place to execute his purpose.

“How can you?”

“Through the woods.  Wouldn’t you like it?  You’ve had no exercise to-day.”

“O I’d like it.  But what will you do with the boat? leave her here? —­ O in the Aegean sea, Winthrop!”

“That is what I am steering for,” said her brother.  “But I want to see the after-glow come out first.”

The ‘Aegean Sea’ was a little bay-like cove on the north side of Shahweetah; to which a number of little rock-heads rising out of the water, or some freak of play, had long ago given its classic name.  Winthrop pushed his boat to the shore there, and made her fast; and then he and Winnie waited for the after-glow.  But it was long coming and the twilight grew on; and at last they left the bay and plunged into the woods.  A few steps brought them to a path, which rough and untravelled as it was, their knowledge of the land enabled them easily to follow.  Easily for all but their feet.  Winnie’s would have faltered utterly, so rough, stony, and broken it was, without her brother’s strong arm; but helped and led and lifted by him, she went on joyously through the gathering gloom and under the leafy canopy that shut out all the sky and all knowledge of the after-glow, if it came.  But when they had got free of the woods, and had come out upon the little open cedar field that was on the river side of Shahweetah, near home, —­ there it was!  Over Wut-a-qut-o’s head lay a solid little long mass of cloud with its under edges close-lined with fine deep beautiful red.  The opal light was all gone; the face of the heavens was all clear blue, in the gravity of twilight.  Venus and the moon were there yet, almost down —­ bright as ever; the moon more brilliant and bright; for now the contrast of her sharp crescent was with Wut-a-qut-o’s dark shadowy side.

That was the beginning of that August boating.  And often again as in old times the little skiff flew over the water, in the shadow of the mountain and the sunlight of the bay, coasting the shores, making acquaintance with the evergreens and oaks that skirted them and looked over into the water’s edge.  Where once Elizabeth had gone, Winthrop and Winnie with swifter and surer progress went; many an hour, in the early and the late sunbeams.  For those weeks that they stayed, they lived in the beauties of the land, rather than according to old Karen’s wish, on the fatness of it.

But she did her best; and when at last Winthrop must return to his business, and they bid her good bye and left her and Wut-a-qut-o once more, the old woman declared even while she was wiping the eyes that would not be dry, that their coming had “done both of ’em real good —­ a power of it —­ and her too.”