“Captain Vincey missed his footing,” Napier explained.
“Come in!” said Mrs. Vincey, neat, smiling, and dignified again.[Pg 534]
So Napier crossed the threshold.
“The kettle’s on,” said Mrs. Vincey. “Joey will make some nice hot tea, to ward off a chill.”
“Ha!” said Vincey. “Hot tea, eh?” He glanced at his companion, and then for the first time he saw Napier smile. “My boy!” he said.
Mrs. Vincey, watching them, felt as if an immense burden were lifted from her weary shoulders. This stranger, in his youth and strength and confidence, had come to her aid.
“Won’t you sit down?” she asked anxiously.
“Thank you,” said Napier, accepting the invitation.
His dark hair was plastered against his forehead, and the water was running off his jacket into pools on the floor; but he paid no attention to that. The captain presented him, and he talked to Mrs. Vincey about London. He was perfectly quiet and matter-of-fact. He was taking everything for granted.
Joey brought in the tea, and he rose; and Mrs. Vincey hurried out into the kitchen, to cry, because of the look she had seen pass between them. It was a look of faith and love—taken for granted.[Pg 535]