CHAPTER XVI

t,itmustbeconfessed,lookmuchlikeaBlueCastle. IthadoncebeenasnugplaceenoughinthedayswhenAbelGayhadbeenyoungandprosperous,andthepunning,archedsignoverthegate—“A.Gay,Carpenter,”hadbeenfineandfreshlypainted.Nowitwasafaded,drearyoldplace,withaleprous,patchedroofandshuttershangingaskew.Abelneverseemedtodoanycarpenterjobsabouthisownhouse.Ithadalistlessair,asiftiredoflife.Therewasadwindlinggroveofragged,crone-likeoldsprucesbehindit.Thegarden,whichCissyusedtokeepneatandpretty,hadrunwild.Ontwosidesofthehousewerefieldsfullofnothingbutmulleins.Behindthehousewasalongstretchofuselessbarrens,fullofscrubpinesandspruces,withhereandthereablossomingbitofwildcherry,runningbacktoabeltoftimberontheshoresofLakeMistawis,twomilesaway.Arough,rocky,boulder-strewnlaneranthroughittothewoods—alanewhitewithpestiferous,beautifuldaisies. RoaringAbelmetValancyatthedoor. “Soyou’vecome,”hesaidincredulously.“Inevers’posedthatruckofStir