have not told us what good luck sends you here to be wrecked on the hospitable shores of my Point.”
“I live here. I am chief cook and confectioner where you see the smoking top of that tall chimney up-stream.”
“Why, of course! What a dolt I was, not to think of you, when Churm told us an Athlete, a Brave, a Sage, and a Gentleman was the Superintendent of Dunderbunk; but said we must find his name out for ourselves. You remember, Mary. Miss Damer is Mr. Churm’s ward.”
She acknowledged with a cool bow that she did remember her guardian’s character of Wade.
“You do not say, Peter,” says Mrs. Skerrett, with a bright little look at the other lady, “why Mr. Churm was so mysterious about Mr. Wade.”
“Miss Damer shall tell us,” Peter rejoined, repeating his wife’s look of merry significance.
She looked somewhat teased. Wade could divine easily the meaning of this little mischievous talk. His friend Churm had no doubt puffed him furiously.
“All this time,” said Miss Damer, evading a reply, “we are neglecting our skating privileges.”
“Peter and I have a few grains of humanity in our souls,” Fanny said. “We should blush to sail away from Mr. Wade, while he carries the quarantine flag at his pale cheeks.”
“I am almost ruddy again,” says Wade. “Your potion, Miss Damer, has completed the work of
