got.”
“It can’t be,” said Mrs. Cheyne quietly. “There isn’t a woman here owns a dress that cost a hundred dollars. Why, we—”
“I know it, dear. We have—of course we have. I guess it’s only the style they wear East. Are you having a good time?”
“I don’t see very much of Harvey; he’s always with you; but I ain’t near as nervous as I was.”
“ I haven’t had such a good time since Willie died. I never rightly understood that I had a son before this. Harve’s got to be a great boy.
’Anything I can fetch you, dear?
’Cushion under your head?
Well, we’ll go down to the wharf again and look around.”
Harvey was his father’s shadow in those days, and the two strolled along side by side, Cheyne using