"Still I want you to be wise. Mrs. Hardman will do any heavy lifting for you; and we cannot have you hurt yourself."
"I know dat—an' it ees nice to have de vemin's house so close. Dey be goot fellahs, bot'."
"When are they going to finish the room upstairs for you, Emmiline?"
"Oh, vere soon. De floor all right, de leetle window all right, and de laddare work goot. Bateese say not much mattare for more, now summare tam come."
Emmiline's cheeks were rosy again. She had not the sallow complexion so often seen; and moving so freely about the room, Helen's care for her seemed almost groundless.
The internal arrangements of the cottage were very simple. At one end were two rooms; the one, Harold and Helen's bedroom, the other, the store room, and in it the ladder to the upper story. The balance of the floor space made the living apartment; and, in the meantime, Emmiline and Bateese would occupy the upper room until after the event was over.
After giving directions about dinner, Helen put on a Quaker sunbonnet, and tripped over the green turf down to the edge of the water, where men were driving cedar posts to support the crossbeams of the island bridge. One gang were working close to the shore, another from a raft on the water, while a third were at similar work on the island beyond.
Captain Cummings had charge of the shore gang and Harold the island one. Helen did not know it until almost on the spot. If she had, she might have turned back.
"This is cheering, to be visited by the lady of the fort!" exclaimed Cummings, lifting his hat, "a delightful and unlooked-for compliment."
"Thank you," returned Helen, lightly; "but I'm afraid the compliment was unintended. I thought Harold was on this side, and ran down to have a word with him."