Living their whole lives in this scarcely broken harmony by the margin of the bay, they had long built together one castle in the air. They had talked of it for many an hour by their evening fire, and they had looked from their chamber windows toward the Red Light
upon Rose Island
to see if it were coming true.
This vision was, that they were to awake some morning after an autumnal storm, and to find an unknown vessel ashore behind the house, without name or crew or passengers; only there was to be one sleeping child, with aristocratic features and a few yards of exquisite embroidery.
Years had passed, and their lives were waning, without a glimpse of that precious waif of gentle blood.
Once in an October night Miss Martha had been awakened by a crash, and looking out had seen that their pier had been carried away, and that a dark vessel lay stranded with her bowsprit in the kitchen window.
But daylight revealed the schooner Polly Lawton
, with a cargo of coal, and the dream remained unfulfilled.
They had never revealed it, except to each other.
Moved by a natural sympathy, Miss Martha