The doctor and the old man were coming very near. I saw the lad look up at us, and it was really pathetic to see how he tried to straighten himself up and steady his gait as he took his cap off, with a shaking hand.
"It's really too bad," I said again.
And then Helen just stared at me for an instant, shaking her head.
"I don't believe it," she cried. "I won't believe it."
She let go my arm and dashed away from me. I could see that the poor child was moved again by that instinct of helpfulness which you dear women have, and by the sense of loyalty to friends which girls like Helen always show.
"Oh! What is the matter?" she cried.
Then I saw the doctor move back, and hold up his hand as if seeking to repel her.
"Go back! Don't come near me," he said, hoarsely, and hurried on,
unsteadily, while she stood there, dumbfounded, unable to understand.
I saw her sense of helplessness grow into resentment and wounded pride.
The poor little girl was hurt, Jennie, deeply hurt.
Our men had already invaded the house and were carrying the things away, and the population of Sweetapple Cove was gathering, for our departure was even a more wonderful event than our arrival. There was not a house in the Cove that Helen had not visited, and she has made friends with every last Tom, Dick and Harry in the place, and their wives and children. I know that the women have appreciated her friendly interest in their humble lives. Some little children were howling, possibly at the prospect of being henceforth deprived of the sweets she has distributed among them. All the fish-houses and the flakes were deserted, though it was a fine drying day. The men came towards us, with slightly embarrassed timidity, and I shook hands all around as they grinned at us and wished us a good journey. They actually wanted to carry me down to the yacht.
So I took Helen's arm again, after declining their kind offers, and began my slow descent to the cove.