The tall man went to the window and stood with his back to the room looking out. When he turned about, his eyes were shining—like the lights across the water. “It was like getting home,” he said.
“Yes,’.was home,” said Uncle William contentedly. “Of course, any place where you happen to be is home,—but if there’s somebody there waitin’ for ye and needin’ ye, it’s more homier than any of ’em.” Andy got slowly to his feet. “Harr’et’s waitin’ for me,” he said, “and I might’s well go—” He cast a lingering look at the table. “You boys going to sit up all night, talking and gabbling!”
“Why, no, Andy. I do ’no ’s we ’ll light up,” responded Uncle William. “I was thinkin’ of going down to look after the boats a little and then we ’ll go to bed—like enough.”
“Well, good night,” said Andy, “I’ve got to go,”
“Good night, Andy.” They sat listening to his footfalls on the rocky path below. “He’s a good boy,” said Uncle William. “He ’ll stan’ a lot—without whimpering—but he don’t know it—no more ’n that cat there.”
Juno rose and stretched her back, yawning. Then she walked indifferently to the door and passed out—as if a summons had come to her from the night out there.
UNCLE WILLIAM finished the last saucepan and carried it, with careful flourish, to the stove, where the top was piled high with pots and kettles. He found a place for the saucepan and deposited it with cautious touch. Then he stood back and surveyed the topply pile with hopeful eye.
Benjamin, seated on a rock outside, was whistling softly. “You most ready, William,” he called.
Uncle William glanced hastily toward the window, then his glance traveled about the room. “Pretty near, Benjy,” he said. “You wait a minute whilst I chuck two-three more things out o’ sight.”
Benjamin rose and stretched his long legs. The sun shone brilliantly and the salt air was alive with the freshness of summer. He strolled to the window and looked in.... Uncle William, on his knees by the red lounge, was poking things under with swift, efficient touch.
He looked up and nodded. “Don’t you wait, Benjy. I’m most done. The’s just two-three things got strayed around—” He gathered up a plate and saucer, with the remnants of Juno’s supper, and carried them across to the sink. He opened the cupboard door underneath and thrust them in.... “The’s a few things left,” he said apologetically, “if I raked way in under for ’em, mebbe. But we’ve got enough to run along—quite a spell now.” He glanced affectionately at the stove and the rows of shining cups and plates ranged on the shelf above the sink.