Although the surname meant nothing to Miss Esther, she remembered that
there had been a Theodore Winthrop in her mother’s line. “Possibly he
may be of that family,” she thought.
“I wish mother’d let me be a sailor,” went on Jack, wistfully.
“Well, wait until Mr. Brewster comes over here to-morrow,” said Miss
Esther, “and we’ll see what he thinks about it.”
Jack, much comforted at the thought of a possible escape from the
reverend calling, went whistling to the kitchen, where he enjoyed
another doughnut with an appetite unhampered by a depressed mentality.
“It would be strange,” said Miss Esther, still looking at the card she
held, “if this man were one of our Winthrops. I don’t remember the
Brewster connection, but I’ll look it up in the book.”