Captain Seaford, sitting just outside the door, was endeavoring to
mend a net, but constant watching for the coming of Captain Atherton
made the task of mending progress slowly.
"I must spunk up a little," he said, "for I want to use this net," but
in spite of his resolve, he was soon watching, as before, for the
coming of his friend.
At last he arose from the low stool on which he had been sitting,
throwing the net down in a heap on the sand.
Mrs. Seaford, seated indoors, was busy, her needle flying in and out,
darning one of the captain's socks.
"I can't keep my mind on my work," he said. "I tie a knot, and then
look up to see if John Atherton is in sight. I never acted like that
before. I'm always glad to see him, but for some strange reason, I
can't wait patiently for him to arrive."
"I'm doing the same thing," his wife said. "I can't keep my mind on
this mending. I take three stitches and then look out of the window.
Isn't it strange?"
The honking of a horn made them hasten to the door.
They saw the big car, they dimly saw Captain Atherton, Polly, and Rose,
but with startling clearness they saw the one thing on earth that they
held most dear,--little Sprite.
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