“On the road to prosperity!” finished Desiré, giving him a hug and taking up her sewing again.
“Not exactly prosperity, I’m afraid; but at least the means of existence,” laughed Jack.
“The funny part of the performance,” he went on, “is that Dr. Myers did not tell me to say to Mr. Libermann that he had sent me; and that gentleman didn’t have courage to remind him of the fact when he got so excited over my being turned down.”
The children were delighted when they heard that another three weeks were to be spent in that pleasant spot, but deplored the absence of their playfellow, Jack. Unaccustomed to work of the heavy kind that was required of him in the shipyard, he was naturally very tired when he returned at night; and Desiré tried to prevent the younger ones from making any demands at all upon him. She was careful, too, to keep unpleasant topics and worries from him.
The days were lonely for her; their simple housekeeping was soon done, and she could not play with the children all the time. So in desperation, one day, she took the cover off the box of articles saved from their old home, and hunted through until she found Jack’s first year high school books.
“If I can’t go to school,” she decided, “I can at least study a little by myself. I won’t bother Jack now, but later he will help me over the things I can’t understand.”
After that, the days did not drag so slowly.
The doctor kept an eye on Jack, and at unexpected times dropped into the yards to see him. In spite of the difference in their ages, the two became good friends; and both were genuinely sorry when the end of their companionship arrived.
“The doctor wants me to be on the lookout for a certain kind of ox on the way back to Halifax,” said Jack, the night before they broke camp.
“Halifax?” said Priscilla. “I thought we were going to Bridgeriver.”