Sears rose, so did the minister, but she waved them back. "Don't," she begged. "I—I am all right.... No, please don't speak to me for—for a little while."
So they did not speak, but the captain, watching her, saw that the color came back very slowly to her cheeks and that her eyes, when she opened them, were wet. Her hands, clasped in her lap, were trembling. Sears, although rejoicing for her, felt a pang of hot resentment at the manner of the announcement. It should not have been so public. She should not have had to face such a surprise before those staring spectators. Why had not the judge—or Bradley, if he knew—have prepared her in some measure?
But when it was over and he hastened to congratulate her, she was more composed. She received his congratulations, and those of the others, if not quite calmly at least with dignity and simplicity. To Mr. Dishup and Bradley and Captain Baker she said little except thanks. To Barnes, whose congratulations were sincere and hearty, and, to all appearances at least, quite ungrudging, she expressed herself as too astonished to be very coherent.
"I—I can scarcely believe it yet," she faltered. "I can't understand—I can't think why he did it.... And you are all so very kind. You won't mind if I don't say any more now, will you?"
But to Sears when he came, once more, to add another word and to shake her hand, she expressed a little of the uncertainty which she felt.
"Oh," she whispered; "oh, Cap'n Kendrick, do you think it is right? Do you think he really meant to do it? You are sure he did?"
His tone should have carried conviction. "You bet he meant it!" he declared, fervently. "He never meant anything any more truly; I know it."
"Do you? Do you really?... Did—did you know? Did he tell you he was going to?"
"Not exactly, but he hinted. He——"
"Wait. Wait, please. Don't tell me any more now. By and by, on the way home, perhaps. I—I want to know all about it. I want to be sure. And," with a tremulous smile, "I doubt if I could really understand just yet."