She seemed to mean it. He looked at her.
“Thank you,” he said drily. “I'm rather glad myself.”
“Oh! I didn't mean it exactly that way. Of course I'm glad you weren't drowned, but I'm especially glad that—that one of our family saved you. Now you won't believe that Come-Outers are all bad.”
“I never believed it.”
She shook her head.
“Oh, yes, you did,” she affirmed stubbornly. “You've heard nothing good of us since you came here. Don't tell fibs, Mr. Ellery.”
“But I assure you—”
“Nonsense! Does—well, does Cap'n Daniels, or his daughter, say anything good of us? Be honest, do they?”
“I hardly think—that is, I shouldn't call their opinions unprejudiced. And, Miss Van Horne, perhaps the prejudice isn't all on one side. What did your uncle say about Cap'n Nat's meeting me the other day?”
“Uncle Eben doesn't know. Nat didn't tell anyone but me. He doesn't boast. And uncle would be glad he helped you. As I told you before, Mr. Ellery, I'm not ashamed of my uncle. He has been so good to me that I never can repay him, never! When my own father was drowned he took me in, a little orphan that would probably have been sent to a home, and no father could be kinder or more indulgent than he has been. Anything I asked for I got, and at last I learned not to ask for too much. No self-denial on his part was too great, if he could please me. When he needed money most he said nothing to me, but insisted that I should be educated. I didn't know until afterwards of the self-sacrifice my four years at the Middleboro Academy meant to him.”