The bad weather continued. So did the illness of Miss Greatorex and Molly Breckenridge. Neither of them left their stateroom again till that day and another night had passed and the “Prince” came to her mooring¹ in Yarmouth harbor.  
Both Mrs. Hungerford and Dorothy spent much of their time with one or other patient, yet were often alone together on deck or in the music-room and became very well acquainted, indeed, during their hours of loneliness. From the girl Auntie Lu drew many details of her short life, and was especially interested when she found that Mrs. Betty Calvert was a friend of them both; exclaiming:
 
“Why, my dear, I’ve known Mrs. Betty Calvert all my life! She was my mother’s dearest correspondent. They had been girls together, though Mrs. Calvert was older than mother. Their homes were near each other in Maryland; and—why, the Calverts, or Somersets, were as intimate as it is possible for families to be with our folks—the Breckenridges! This is most interesting. Most certainly interesting. I must tell my brother. Schuyler is so loyal to all our old Marylanders; he [Pg 90]thinks there are no people like them anywhere, though for my part I find human nature’s pretty much the same all the world over.”
 
“Yes, Mrs. Hungerford, I’ve heard Mrs. Calvert say that there was no gentleman so fine as a southern one. Mr. Seth laughs at her and says that’s a ‘hobby,’ and she’s ‘mistaken.’ He says ‘gentlemen don’t grow any better on one soil than another,’ but are ‘indigenous to the whole United States,’ though Mr. Winters is a Marylander himself.” Then she naïvely added in explanation, and in a little vanity about her botanical lore³: “‘Indigenous’ means, maybe you don’t know, a plant that belongs to, is a native of, some particular region. Mr. Seth taught me and Father John. They both know lots about botany, though father hasn’t lived in the country as long as our ‘Learned Blacksmith,’ who does know, seems if, all there is worth knowing in this world. For a man, I mean.”
 
Aunt Lucretia smiled and nodded, but in an absent sort of manner as if she had scarcely heard what Dorothy had said. Then as the girl rose, remarking: “I’ll go now and sit a while with Molly if she’s awake. Funny! She says she feels all right as long as she lies down and so horrid⁵ when she tries to get up and dress;” the lady’s gaze followed her little figure with a keenly critical interest. Also, she eagerly greeted the Judge, who now came to her, with the ambiguous exclamation⁶:
 
“Schuyler Breckenridge, the most marvellous thing! I’ve discovered—or I believe I have—[Pg 91]what that remarkable⁷ likeness⁸ is which has so perplexed⁹ me. Blood always tells, always crops out!”
 
“Exactly. Especially in cases like this. Having nothing else to do I’ve tried whittling—with this result. Tie it up, Lu, and explain yourself—if you can,” he answered, whimsically holding out a finger he had cut and that was slightly bleeding.
 
“Oh! you poor dear!”
 
“Yes. Am I not! Wait. Here’s a bit of court-plaster. Forgot I had it or wouldn’t have troubled you. Now, talk ahead.”
 
“Schuyler, a man like you shouldn’t trifle with edged tools. You have no gift for anything but—lawing. It wouldn’t be any laughing matter if you should develop blood-poison—”
 
“It certainly would not, and as I like to laugh I shan’t do it. Now, what is this marvellous thing you’ve discovered, please? I’m getting tired of fog, no newspapers, and chess with a stranger; so welcome even a woman’s gossip with delight!”
 
She paid no heed¹⁰ to his chaffing but began:
 
“I believe I know who that Dorothy’s parents were. I’m as positive as if I’d been told; and I’m perfectly¹¹ amazed at Mrs. Betty Calvert. Isn’t it wonderful?”
 
“Apparently—to you. Not yet to me. I’ve understood that two and two makes four; but how your ‘belief’ and poor old Betty Calvert make sensible connection I fail to comprehend. I await instruction.”
 
“Stop jesting and you shall have it. Then tell [Pg 92]me if I haven’t given you better food for thought than you’d find in to-day’s paper—if you could get it here at sea.”
 
Thereupon, hitching¹² her chair a little nearer to her brother’s and glancing about to see no stranger overheard, the lady began a low toned conversation with him. This proved, as she had foretold¹³, far more entertaining than the day’s news; and when it was over, when there was nothing more to be said, he rose, pulled his traveling cap over his eyes, thrust his hands into his capacious pockets and walked away “to think it over.” Adding, as he left:
 
“Well, if you’re right everything is wrong. And if you’re wrong everything’s right.”
 
Over which eminent¹⁵ legal opinion Mrs. Hungerford smiled, reflecting:
 
“He’s convinced. There’s nobody I know so well versed¹⁶ in Maryland genealogy¹⁷ as Schuyler Breckenridge. It’s been his pastime so long he’ll be keen on this scent¹⁸ till he proves it false or true. And if it is true—what a shame, what a shame! That horrid, lonely old woman to take such an outrageous¹⁹ course. Poor, dear, sweet little Dorothy!”
 
The result to Dorothy of this conversation was a greater kindness than ever on the part of Molly’s people; who now seemed to take her into their hearts as if she were of kin⁴ to them. She often found them looking at her searchingly, trying to trace that “likeness” which one of them had discovered. [Pg 93]But no word of what was in their minds was said to her. She was merely invited to call Mrs. Hungerford “Aunt” as she was to call the Judge “Uncle.”
 
So despite the dullness of the fog, which prevented her seeing much of the ocean, the day passed very well. When she was asked if she could play and to give her new friends a little music, she took the violin from its shelf and gave them her simple best. To please them who were so kind to her was a delight to herself and her readiness to oblige was instantly construed²¹ by Aunt Lucretia as a fresh proof of her “discovery.”
 
“Only a well-born child has that easy grace of manner, Schuyler, as you must often have observed,” she remarked with pleased conviction.
 
To which he replied by warning:
 
“Take care you don’t build up a romance that will fall to pieces like a house of cards at the first breath of reality. But as to birth, be it high or low, Dorothy is a most winning little maid and I’m thankful to have her along with us on our holiday. Thankful, also, that impulsive²² Molly chose just such an unselfish, ingenuous²³ girl for her ‘chum.’ My poor little lass! Her first ocean voyage will be a dreary²⁴ memory for her!”
 
“Oh! not so bad. She’s perfectly comfortable when she lies still. She has plenty of attention and sleeps a deal. She’s not losing much fun out here in this weather and will be no more glad to step onto solid land again than I shall. Except that, [Pg 94]but for this enforced close companionship with little Dorothy I might not have thought out her story as I have.”
 
“There you go again! Well, the suggestion haunts me, too. I’ll investigate promptly²⁵; and—what I shall do after that I haven’t yet decided²⁶. I hate a meddler²⁷ and am not anxious to become one. Heigho! No matter how hard a tired man tries to mind his own business he can’t do it! Here comes that young Melvin Cook, and he’s a lad with a pedigree, let me tell you, as long as any oldest Marylander of all. He and I have a bit of business to discuss, so I’ll walk the deck with him awhile. Dorothy, I suppose, will sleep in her own stateroom to-night, since Miss Greatorex is comfortable. Good night, and sleep well.”
 
The deserted²⁸ deck and the quiet gloom were a forcible contrast to the radiance and hilarity²⁹ of the evening before, so that Mrs. Hungerford did not linger long after the Judge had left her, to pace up and down in earnest conversation with the “Bashful Bugler³⁰.” Yet her thought was now upon the lad and his name which her brother had mentioned.
 
“Cook! Cook, from Yarmouth. Why, that’s the same as that quaint² old fellow brother took into his private office. He came from Nova Scotia, too, and called himself a typical Bluenose. Feared he was liable to consumption and left home for our milder climate. Wonder if he is a relative of the blond bugler! After all, as Molly so often exclaims, ‘what a little bit o’ world it is! Everybody [Pg 95]you know turning up everywhere you go!’ Quite a keen observer is my flighty little niece, in spite of all her nonsense; and bless her heart! I must go and see how she is and send small nurse Dorothy to her own slumbers³¹.”
 
So she too walked forward, and was seen no more till the grating sounds and the shouted orders told that the good ship “Prince” was docked and her goodly company had reached that safe “haven where they would be.”
 
Then as if by magic the decks filled with a merry company, even those who had suffered most from seasickness³² the gayest of all.
 
“So good to go ashore³³! Too early for breakfast? Of course; but I’ll take a walk on dry—or fog-wet ground before I take mine!” said the gentleman who had been first to succumb³⁴ to the “fog swell,” and stepped down the ladder, whistling like a happy lad.
 
Miss Greatorex and Molly emerged from their staterooms a little pallid³⁵, rather shaky on their feet, but quite as happy as their neighbors. Not the less pleased, either, because the Judge promptly announced:
 
“We’ll not bother for breakfast here. Some of us don’t remember the ‘Prince’s’ dining-room with great affection, eh?” and he playfully pinched Molly’s wan³⁶ cheek. “We’re going to stop in Yarmouth for a few days, and the hotel carriage will take the rest of you up to it at once. You’ll find your rooms all ready for you. I’ll see to our luggage [Pg 96]and have that sent up, then follow in time to join you at table. All right, everybody? All your small belongings³⁷ in hand? Then driver, pass on.”
 
Already the fog was lifting, and the urbane³⁸ old man upon the box leaned down and informed his fares:
 
“Going to be a fine day, ladies. You’ll see Ya’mouth at her purtiest. Ever been here before, any of you?”
 
Miss Greatorex’s propriety³⁹ began to return. A sure sign, Mrs. Hungerford thought, that she was feeling better; and she watched in secret amusement the sudden stiffening⁴⁰ of the angular figure and the compression of the thin lips as the “instructress” looked fixedly⁴¹ out of the carriage window and vouchsafed⁴² no other reply.
 
But Aunt Lu always adapted herself to the habits of any country of the many she had visited and replied, with an eagerness that was half-mischievous and for Miss Isobel’s benefit:
 
“No, indeed! and we’re anxious to see and learn everything new. So please point out anything of note, and thank you.”
 
“Hmm. I should suppose there could be nothing ‘of note’ in a place like this,” murmured Miss Isobel, severely⁴³, as she scornfully observed the dingy⁴⁴ streets and dwellings⁴⁵ of that neighborhood.
 
But the hackman was gratified by Mrs. Hungerford’s interest and a chance for his own garrulity⁴⁶, and promptly informed them:
 
“’Tain’t never fair to judge no town by its water-front. [Pg 97]Course not. Stands to reason that shipyards and docks and sailorses’ saloons ain’t laid out for beauty. But just you wait till we get up the hill a speck⁴⁷ and then you’ll see somethin’ worth seein’. True. There ain’t a nicer town in the whole Province o’ Novy Scoshy ’an Ya’mouth is. Now we’re a gettin’. Now! See there?”
 
“Ah! how lovely!” “Oh! Auntie Lu!” “Oh! my heart, my heart! If only darling Father John could see that hedge? What is it, Auntie Lu, can you tell?” cried Dorothy in rapture⁴⁸; for, indeed, the hedges of this old town by the sea are famous everywhere the name of Yarmouth is heard.
 
The driver didn’t wait for Mrs. Hungerford to reply, even if she could have done so. He received every question and exclamation as personal and proudly answered:
 
“Ha’tho’n, them are, this side. Then yonder is spruce. And our gardens! If you women-folks love posies as most females does, you’d ought to be here a spell later. Roses ain’t out yet but cherries is in flower.”
 
“Roses not in bloom? Why, they’re past it with us!” responded Auntie Lu, surprised.
 
“Hmm, ma’am. And where might that be, if I c’n make so bold?”
 
“The vicinity of New York, I was recalling.”
 
“Hmm. Exactly. A poor kind of country, New York is, even though they do call it the ‘Empire State’ and try to bolster⁴⁹ up its failin’s with a lot of fine talk. Now our Province o’ Novy Scoshy, and this [Pg 98]Ya’mouth, don’t need to do no talkin’. All’s necessary for us and them is just to—BE! Once a feller comes and gets a good square look at us—no water-front way—” he interpolated, with a shrewd glance toward Miss Isobel’s averted⁵⁰ face and an absurd wink⁵¹ to Mrs. Hungerford—“he just sets right down and quits talkin’ of his own places. Fact. I’ve lived here all my life and that’s the reason I know it.”
 
The man’s good nature and self-satisfaction were vastly amusing to Aunt Lucretia, who ignored what seemed impertinence to the more formal Miss Greatorex, while the former inwardly delighted in this to her “new type” of liveryman, and was already anticipating the Judge’s entertainment when the story of this ride was told him.
 
But Molly waxed indignant over his disparagement⁵² of her native land and exclaimed:
 
“I wish you’d not talk that way! We’re Americans. I don’t like it!”
 
“American, be you? So’m I.”
 
“Oh! well. Course it’s all America, but I mean we’re from—from the States,” as she chanced to recall an expression she had heard.
 
“From the States, hey? So be I.”
 
“Yet you say you’ve lived here all your life. If you hadn’t you’d have been more—more liberal—like travel makes people. If you’d once seen New York you wouldn’t think that little Yarmouth was so mighty⁵³ pretty. A right smart you know about it, anyway!”
 
[Pg 99]“Huh! Gid-dap!” was the scornful rejoinder, as Jehu whirled about on his seat and touched his team to a gallop⁵⁴.
 
Mrs. Hungerford gave Molly a warning tap, though she was inwardly pleased to find the child so far recovered as to take an interest in defending her own home.
 
It was rather startling to have an ensuing silence broken by the old driver’s facing about once more and declaring with great glee:
 
“You ain’t no New Yorker, so you needn’t be touchy⁵⁵ about that little village. You’re from down south.”
 
“How do you know?”
 
“Yorkers don’t say ‘mighty pretty’ and ‘right smart,’ as the Johnny Rebs do. I know. I’ve druv a power of both lots. As for me, I’m a Yankee, straight descent. My forbear, Sealed Waters, was one the first settlers here. A Yankee I claim to be, and the ‘wa’’ ain’t over yet, ’pears like. Ha, ha, ha!”
 
His mirth was contagious⁵⁶ and they all joined in it; even Miss Greatorex emitting a faint little cackle, which was all her dignity permitted. Also, by that time the carriage had been halted before a fine hotel, into which other passengers from their steamer were already passing; and they were duly helped to alight and enter, their loquacious⁵⁷ jehu calmly extending his card with his name and number and, after a most business-like fashion, requesting their patronage⁵⁸ during the rest of their stay.
 
[Pg 100]“Show you the purtiest little town in the world, and’ll live to hear you admit it, Ma’am. Thank you, ma’am, and good-day to you.”
 
The Judge had secured their rooms long in advance of their arrival, and it was well that he had. The Province had come greatly to the fore¹⁴ as a summer pleasure ground and less thoughtful travelers did not always obtain such quarters as they preferred.
 
“Oh! this is fine!” exclaimed Mrs. Hungerford, as she entered her chamber⁵⁹ with its neat appointments and refreshing⁶⁰ bath. But Miss Greatorex was not enthusiastic. She was disappointed in the inn as she had been in the steamer, having anticipated something much larger and finer. The exaggerated term of “palatial,” which the proprietors⁶¹ had attached to both, had deceived her and it was no great comfort to have her companion explain:
 
“Of course, one can’t find Broadway hostelries nor European ‘liners’ in this part of the world; but brother has often stayed in this house and knows it well. There is a larger, newer hotel, but he likes this little inn. The fare is excellent, the place is safe and quiet, and the landlord becomes your actual host. That’s the charm of the Canadians; they are all so simple and so courteous⁶². Try and ignore the disadvantages, dear Miss Isobel, and get all the fun out of our trip you can. If you’d seen some of the places I’ve slept in you’d think this is really ‘palatial.’”
 
The girls were out of hearing and Mrs. Hungerford [Pg 101]felt herself justified⁶³ in thus much of admonition to her traveling mate, whose ideas had been too highly raised by the circulars and descriptions she had read. Fortunately, Miss Greatorex was so thankful to be once more on land that she really tried to forget minor⁶⁴ annoyances⁶⁵ and to look upon whatever happened as so much further “education.” Her little notebook was promptly put to use and she filled several pages with memoranda⁶⁶ of the old seaport⁶⁷ which she had so despised at first and found so historically instructive afterward⁶⁸. Indeed, as Molly declared:
 
“You’ll have to buy a good many books to hold all you want to write, even in that fine hand, dear Miss Greatorex; and what a lot of things you’ll have to tell the girls at our ‘twilight talks!’”
 
Nor could any inexperienced traveler have found better companions than Judge Breckenridge and his sister. They were so simple, so friendly, and such keen observers. Everywhere they went they met and mingled⁶⁹ with the people exactly as if they were old and familiar friends; and in the gentleman’s case this was quite true. He had been in the Province many times, as has been said, and he had the happy gift of a good and willing memory. He never forgot an acquaintance nor recalled one unkindly, and it surprised even Mrs. Hungerford to see how many faces brightened at his approach and how often the greeting came: “Welcome, welcome, friend!”
 
“Why, Judge, you back again? Well, I’m certain [Pg 102]glad to see you? ‘Tourists’ like you are the sort we welcome heartiest⁷⁰ to Ya’mouth. Fact, ain’t it? The more folks know, the more they’ve traveled, the more they find to admire and enjoy even in such a place as this!” cried one old seaman⁷¹, whom they met on their morning walk.
 
For having enjoyed a most excellent breakfast and the sun now shining brilliantly, they set out for a stroll through the pretty streets and past the charming gardens of the town; and finally brought up at the postoffice where there were letters for everybody, even for Dorothy.
 
Hers was from Jim Barlow, and full of news of the mountain and old friends there; saying, also, that he had been invited to join his tutor, the Rev²⁰. Mr. Sterling⁷², who was sometimes called the “tramping parson,” on a walking tour through the northern part of the Empire State. It was overflowing⁷³ with enthusiasm over the places he would visit and the wonderful “good luck” which had so changed the life of the truck-farm lad; “and I mean to make the whole ‘tramp’ a part of my education. I tell you, Dolly girl, if there’s much gets past me without my seeing and knowing it, it’ll be when I’m asleep. Mr. Sterling’s a geologist⁷⁴, and likes to take his vacation this way, so’s he can find new stones, or hammer old ones to his heart’s content.
 
“Whilst he’s a hammering I’ll be hunting things in the woods. I mean to make a regular list of every bird I see, and every animal, and study all their little habits and tricks. I’ll carry some old [Pg 103]newspapers and a book, too, so that if I come across any new kind of flower or plant I’ll press it for you. That way my vacation’ll be considerable of a help to you too.
 
“Try and learn all you can, Dorothy child, whilst you have the chance. There’s nothing so perfectly grand in all this world as learning things. I’ve noticed you were getting a little flighty, along back, and setting more store by your clothes than you used to, or that a girl who’ll have to teach for her living had ought to. Needn’t get mad with me for reminding you. I can write it easier than I could say it to your face, some way; and amongst all the good times you’re having don’t forget to write to me once in a while, for we’ve been so like brother and sister this long time that I want to hear. So no more at present from your affectionate
 
“James Barlow.
 
“P. S.—I had a letter from Mrs. Cecil Somerset-Calvert. She wrote I was to call to Deerhurst and get Peter and Ponce, her two Great Danes, and take them with me on my tour. She’d already written to Mr. Sterling, because she knew he was a dog-lover, and he was pleased to have them on the trip. Good-by.
 
“Jim.”
 
“Well, this changes our plans somewhat,” remarked the Judge, looking up from one of his letters, with an expression of some disappointment. They had all paused outside the postoffice building to hastily scan their news, and now grouped about [Pg 104]him in interest, as Mrs. Hungerford rather anxiously asked:
 
“Why, Schuyler, what’s happened?”
 
“Oh! nothing unpleasant. Not at all. Only this is from Ihrie, and the boys will be on hand earlier than expected. So, to get around to all the places we want to see and yet be at our rendezvous⁷⁵ in time we’ll have to cut our stay here short. I wouldn’t like to fail the boys.”
 
“Not on any account!” exclaimed Aunt Lu, merrily; and then explaining to Miss Greatorex: “Let me tell you, Miss Isobel, that these ‘boys’ range anywhere from fifty to seventy-five years in age! and that one of them is a college president, another a world-famous surgeon, and the third an equally notable merchant. Old class-mates under their president, whom it is their glory to have with them on these annual trips.”
 
“Why, I—I think that is beautiful!” returned the teacher, with so much enthusiasm that the others reflected how she was “waking up.” “Beautiful,” she added again, after a pause in which she had looked with new interest upon her own young pupils.
 
“Yes, we must get on. So let’s plan our day the best we can, and take the evening express for Digby. How does this suit? To call a carriage and have you ladies driven all around, to ‘do’ Yarmouth as thoroughly⁷⁶ as possible in so short a time. Don’t wait dinner for me—for us. I have a visit to make which must not be postponed⁷⁷, since it concerns [Pg 105]the interests of other people. I’ll take the girls with me and give them a chance to see the inside of a Yarmouth cottage. Also, if we’re invited, to taste a bit of native Yarmouth cookery. We’ll get around back to the inn in time for collecting our traps and making the train. Eh?”
 
“Suits me well enough;” answered Mrs. Hungerford, and Miss Isobel nodded acquiescence⁷⁸, saying to the surprise of the others: “That descendant of ‘Sealed Waters’ might impart the most information of any driver, possibly.”
 
“But—Molly! Why, Molly, what are you acting⁷⁹ that way for?” demanded Dorothy, smiling at the antics of her mate. For the girl had hastily scanned two of her letters and having saved “the best to the last” was now prancing⁸⁰ all over the sidewalk, waving the missive overhead and crying:
 
“Splendid! Splendid! SPLENDID!”