"So yer could, fer a fact," he admitted, "but yer couldn't run out handy an' fetch doctor, so I might as well stay here an' ye kin do a job of sleepin'."
As he hurried out Susie came in from the kitchen, buxom and rosy of cheek.
"Th' kittle's biled ef you is ready," she announced. "Yer must be a-perishin' fer a sup an' a bite."
I shall have to stop now, Aunt Jennie dear, and goodness knows when this will reach you, as mails are very movable feasts.
But it has been a comfort to write, and I was too nervous and excited to
go to sleep, for a long time. I really think I ought to go to bed now.
That doctor is really a very nice young man, and I just love Mrs.
Barnett. Any one would.
Please write as often as possible, for now we are prisoners for goodness knows how long in this place, and your letters will be worth their weight in precious stones. Tell me all that is happening. Have you heard from Harry Lawrence lately?
Your loving
HELEN.
CHAPTER V
From John Grant's Diary
When I awoke this morning, I was inclined to pinch myself, wondering whether I was still dreaming. In a moment, however, my recollections were perfectly clear. Yesterday evening I met people such as I should no more have expected to find in Sweetapple Cove than in the mountains of the moon. I am glad that my idea in coming here was not to convert myself into a hermit; I am afraid I should have been sadly disappointed. Mr. Jelliffe is a man just beyond middle age, shrewd and inclined to good nature. His daughter, like the rest of her sex, is probably a problem, but so far I can only discover in her an exceedingly nice young lady who dotes on her father and takes rather a sensible view of things.