“Julia,” said Captain Jethro, his big voice trembling as he said it, “I—I'm here, Julia. What is it?”
“Julia she say she gladee you heree,” gurgled Little Cherry Blossom. Martha Phipps drew a breath between her teeth as if in pain. Her hand squeezed Lulie's tight. She was suffering with the girl. As for Galusha, sensitive soul that he was, he blushed all over in sympathetic embarrassment.
“I'm glad to be here, Julia,” said the captain. “You know it, too, I guess likely. Is all well with you, Julia?”
Cherry Blossom in horrible pidgin English affirmed that all was well, all was happiness and delight and bliss in the realm beyond. Galusha did not hear much of this, he was suffering too acutely to listen. Then he heard Captain Jethro ask another question.
“Is there any special message you've got for me, Julia?”
Yes, there was. “Daughter, daughter.” There was some message about a daughter.
“Lulie? Is there somethin' you want to tell me about Lulie, Julia?”
“Father!” It was Lulie herself who uttered the exclamation. “Father,” she cried. “Don't! Oh, don't! Please don't!”
Her father's reply was a furious roar.
“Stop!” he thundered. “Be still! Don't you say another word!”