"I didn't know just what he meant, of course," he said, in conclusion, "but I guessed, some of it. I do want you to know, Elizabeth," he added, stammering a little in his earnestness, "how glad I am for you, how very glad."
"Yes," she said, "I do know."
"Well, I—I haven't said much, but I am. I don't think I ever was more glad, or could be. You believe that, don't you?"
She looked at him in surprise. "Why, of course I believe it," she said. "Why do you ask that?"
"Oh, I—I don't know. I hadn't said much about it."
"But it wasn't necessary. I knew you were glad. I know you by this time, Cap'n Kendrick, through and through."
The same guilty shiver ran down his spine and he glanced sharply at her to see if there was any hidden meaning behind her words. But there was not. She was looking down again, and when she again spoke it was to repeat the question she had asked at the lawyer's office.
"I wonder if I ought to take it?" she murmured. "Do you think it is right for me to accept—so much?
"Right!" he repeated. "Right? Of course its right. And because it is enough to amount to somethin' makes it all the more right. Judge Knowles knew what he was doin', trust his long head for that. A little would only have made things easier where you were.... Now," he forced himself to say it, "now you can be independent."
"Independent?"