Todd pressed her aromatic nosegay between her hands and
offered it to me again and again.
"There's nothin' like it," she said; "oh no, there's no such
pennyr'yal as this in the state of Maine. It's the right pattern
of the plant, and all the rest I ever see is but an imitation.
Don't it do you good?" And I answered with enthusiasm.
"There, dear, I never showed nobody else but mother where to
find this place; 'tis kind of sainted to me. Nathan, my husband,
an' I used to love this place when we was courtin', and"--she
hesitated, and then spoke softly--"when he was lost, 'twas just off
shore tryin' to get in by the short channel out there between Squaw
Islands, right in sight o' this headland where we'd set an' made
our plans all summer long."
I had never heard her speak of her husband before, but I felt
that we were friends now since she had brought me to this place.
"'Twas but a dream with us," Mrs. Todd said. "I knew it when
he was gone. I knew it"--and she whispered as if she were at
confession--"I knew it afore he started to go to sea.
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