Sylvia saw that he had barely touched his strawberries--their first of the season, though they were fine ones and the cream was the thickest.

She folded her hands on the edge of the table and watched him gravely in the light of the four candles whose flame flared in the breeze that swept softly through the dining-room windows.

Feeling her eyes upon him the old gentleman suddenly roused himself.
"We've had good times, haven't we, Sylvia?
And I wonder if I have really taught you anything.

I suppose I ought to have been sending you to school with the other youngsters about here, but the fact is that I never saw a time when I wanted to part with you! You've been a fine little shipmate, but you're not so little any more.

Sixteen your next birthday! If that's so it isn't best for us to go on this way.