His answer was to hold out his arms. Another moment and she was in them, clinging to his wet coat, sobbing, holding him fast, and begging him not to leave her, to take her away, that she would work, that she would not be a burden to him—only take her with him and try to forgive her, for he was real and honest and the only friend she had.
And Captain Elisha, soothing her, stroking her hair, and murmuring words of love and tenderness, realized that his labor and sacrifice had not been in vain, that here was his recompense; she would never misunderstand him again; she was his at last.
And yet, in the midst of his joy, his conscience troubled him more than ever.
CHAPTER XX
It was April; and May was close at hand. The weather was all that late April weather should be, and so often is not. Trees, bushes, and vines were in bud; the green of the new grass was showing everywhere above the dead brown of the old; a pair of bluebirds were inspecting the hollow of the old apple tree, with an eye toward spring housekeeping; the sun was warm and bright, and the water of the Sound sparkled in the distance. Caroline, sitting by the living-room window, was waiting for her uncle to return from the city.
In the kitchen Annie Moriarty was preparing dinner. Annie was now cook as well as chamber-maid, for, of all the Warren servants, she was the only one remaining. Edwards, the “Commodore,” had been dismissed, had departed, not without reluctance but philosophically, to seek other employment. “Yes, miss,” observed Edwards, when notified that his services were no longer required; “I understand. I’ve been expecting it. I was in a family before that met with financial difficulties, and I know the signs. All I can say is that I hope you and Mr. Stephen will get on all right, miss. If there’s anything I can do to help you, by way of friendship, please let me know. I’d be glad, for old times’ sake. And the cook wanted me to tell you that, being as she’s got another job in sight and was paid up to date, she wouldn’t wait for notice, but was leaving immediate. She’s gone already, miss.”
The second maid went also. But Annie, Irish and grateful, refused to go. Her mother came to back her in the refusal.
“Indeed she’ll not leave you, Miss Caroline—you nor Captain Warren neither. Lord love him! Sure, d’ye think we’ll ever forget what you and him done for me and my Pat and the childer? You’ve got to have somebody, ain’t you? And Annie’s cookin’ ain’t so bad that it’ll kill yez; and I’ll learn her more. Never mind what the wages is, they’re big enough. She’ll stay! If she didn’t, I’d break her back.”