There were tears in the eyes that looked at Muriel with the same frank, candid expression that was also her brother’s.
“I reckon he should be goin’,” Muriel had answered. “I cal’late he’s strong enough now, and he’ll be wantin’ to get back to college arter a spell.”
Helen had smiled her gratitude, and pressing the slim brown hand that she held in her own, that was gloved, she had said hurriedly: “Thank you, Miss Muriel. Please don’t tell brother that I made this request. He might feel that I was interfering.”
Then she had added, “I know our mother would wish it.”
Helen, ever considerate and kind, did not mean what Muriel believed that she did. There was a deep crimson flush in the cheeks of the island girl, but just at that moment Marianne had appeared at the top of the stairs to coldly announce that she was ready to depart.
“I’m coming,” Helen had called. Then, because she was too much like her brother not to ring true, she held out her hand again to Muriel and had said most sincerely: “I want to thank you and your grandfather for having done so much toward restoring Gene’s health. Goodbye.”
“I reckon I’ll be glad when they’re all gone,” Muriel thought, the flush again creeping to her cheeks. “If Grand-dad an’ I aren’t good enough to be associated with I cal’late when Gene comes in, I’ll tell him he must be goin’.”
A moment later she heard his clear, merry whistle as he rounded the house. To his surprise, when he entered the kitchen, she did not turn to greet him with her usual friendly smile.
Had those girls made his “storm maiden” self-conscious? was his first almost wrathful thought. Throwing his cap to a chair near, he leaped to the kitchen table, where the girl stood busily stirring a cornmeal mixture for baking. The lad saw the flushed cheeks and at once he understood. Catching her hands, regardless of the spoon, he whirled her about. “Storm Maiden,” he said, “what did Marianne Carnot say that has hurt you?” He felt, as a brother might, he assured himself, a desire to fight the world to defend this girl. The quivering lips smiled just a little.
“She didn’t say nothin’,” Then Rilla added: “Gene, I’ve been ponderin’ while yo’ve been out, an’ I reckon yo’d better go back to the city now. I cal’late maybe—maybe——” How she dreaded to hurt him, but she had decided that he must go, but she did not have to finish the sentence.