“She’s a bully good pal, that’s what; so is sis; but there aren’t many girls like those two,” was his conclusion.
Gene had still another month of enforced vacation, as the doctor had declared that he would not permit him to return to college until after the holidays. Under other circumstances the lad would have fretted about this, but as it was he knew that he was actually eager to spend at least the larger part of that month in Tunkett.
But Gene was not left long alone, for on the very first Saturday after his arrival in the New York hospital, his sister Helen and two of her best friends from the boarding school farther up the Hudson appeared unexpectedly to visit him.
Gladys Goodsell and Faith Morley were attractive maidens, clad in fashionably tailored suits, with muffs to keep their gloved hands warm, for, in spite of the dazzling brightness of the day, the air was stingingly cold.
“Oh, brother,” Helen protested when she was told that as soon as he was stronger he was going back to Tunkett, “what can you see in that outlandish village?” Then to her friends she added: “I went down there one week-end with Doctor Winslow, who is an old friend of father’s, but I can assure you that I shall never go again, that is, not out of season. Such queer people as I saw! Honestly, I had to pinch myself to be sure that I hadn’t stepped into one of Joseph Lincoln’s stories, and, as for understanding what the natives said, well, I just couldn’t.”
“Maybe you didn’t try very hard, Sis.” This from the lad who was keeping his new friend a secret in his heart.
“Maybe I didn’t,” was the merry reply, “but if I were going to write a comic story that’s where I’d go for my characters and illustrations. Girls, I do wish you might see the clothes worn by the wives of the fishermen. I am sure the dressmaker who made them must have come over in the ark.”
As Gene listened, lying back among the pillows of his half-reclining-chair, he glanced at the costumes of his fair visitors, then, turning, he looked out toward the Hudson, but it was not the steely blue river that he saw but a girl in a nondescript calico dress with hair wind-blown who was ordering him to leave her island. Looking back at his sister, he said: “You are right, Helen, about the clothes. They are different.”
When at last the girls arose, Helen leaned affectionately over her brother’s reclining-chair. “I don’t know what possesses you to want to go to Tunkett of all places during this coming month.” Then, wheedlingly: “We’re going to have a series of parties at the school just before the holidays, and then there’s to be that annual affair over at West Point. Please reconsider, brother dear. Go down for a week or two if you really think that it will do you good, but I beg of you, do come back for the holiday fun. Now, promise me!”
Gene took the gloved hand of his sister, whom he did indeed love dearly. “I’ll promise to consider, sister mine,” he said; then added: “But I’m hardly in trim for night frolics just now.”