her son again.  There was a barrier between them which not all her passionate love could break down.  Chester was gravely kind to her, for it was not in his nature to remain sullen long, or visit his own unhappiness upon another’s head; besides, he understood her exacting affection, even in its injustice, and it has been well-said that to understand is to forgive.  But he avoided her, and she knew it.  The flame of her anger burned bitterly towards Damaris.

“He thinks of her all the time,” she moaned to herself.  “He’ll come to hate me yet, I fear, because it’s I who made him give her up.  But I’d rather even that than share him with another woman.  Oh, my son, my son!”

She knew that Damaris was suffering, too.  The girl’s wan face told that when she met her.  But this pleased Thyra.  It eased the ache in her bitter heart to know that pain was gnawing at Damaris’ also.

Chester was absent from home very often now.  He spent much of his spare time at the harbor, consorting with Joe Raymond and others of that ilk, who were but sorry associates for him, Avonlea people thought.

In late November he and Joe started for a trip down the coast in the latter’s boat.  Thyra protested against it, but Chester laughed at her alarm.

Thyra saw him go with a heart sick from fear.  She hated the sea, and was afraid of it at any time; but, most of all, in this treacherous month, with its sudden, wild gales.

Chester had been fond of the sea from boyhood.  She had always tried to stifle this fondness and break off his associations with the harbor fishermen, who liked to lure the high-spirited boy out with them on fishing expeditions.  But her power over him was gone now.

After Chester’s departure she was restless and miserable, wandering from window to window to scan the dour, unsmiling sky.  Carl White, dropping in to pay a call, was alarmed when he heard that Chester had gone with Joe, and had not tact enough to conceal his alarm from Thyra.

“’T isn’t safe this time of year,” he said.  “Folks expect no better from that reckless, harum-scarum Joe Raymond.  He’ll drown himself some day, there’s nothing surer.  This mad freak of starting off down the shore in November is just of a piece with his usual performances.  But you shouldn’t have let Chester go, Thyra.”

“I couldn’t prevent him.  Say what I could, he would go.  He laughed when I spoke of danger.  Oh, he’s changed from what he was!  I know who has wrought the change, and I hate her for it!”

Carl shrugged his fat shoulders.  He knew quite well that Thyra was at the bottom of the sudden coldness between Chester Carewe and Damaris Garland, about which Avonlea gossip was busying itself.  He pitied Thyra, too.  She had aged rapidly the past month.

“You’re too hard on Chester, Thyra.  He’s out of leading-strings now, or should be.  You must just let me take an old friend’s privilege, and tell you that you’re taking the wrong way with him.  You’re too jealous and exacting, Thyra.”