“There! there! deary,” she said, stroking her hair. “There! there! deary, don't take it so hard. Poor thing! you're worn out. If I'd only known sooner.”
“O Aunt Keziah!” sobbed the girl. “I'm so glad you've come. It was so good of you.”
“Good! Land of mercy! If I hadn't come, I'd have been worse than the beasts that perish. Don't cry, don't. How is he now? Some better?”
She looked at the doctor as she asked it. He shook his head emphatically.
“Well, well, dear,” went on Mrs. Coffin hurriedly. “He will be pretty soon, we'll hope. You mustn't give up the ship, you know. Now you go and lay down somewheres and I'll get my things off and see what there is to do. Some good strong tea might be good for all hands, I guess likely. Where's Hannah Poundberry?”
“She's gone to her cousin's to stay all night. I suppose I ought to send for her, but I—”
“No, no, you hadn't. Might's well send for a poll parrot, the critter would be just as much good and talk less. I'll look out for things, me and the doctor. Where's—where's Nat?”
“He came in just after I sent the boy for the doctor. He's in there with—with him,” indicating the bedroom. “Poor Nat!”
Keziah looked longingly toward the door.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “Poor fellow, it's an awful shock to him. He and his father are—But there! you lay down on that lounge.”