CHAPTER XXIV
They left me soon after this. I tried to make them tell who the mysterious friend might be, but they refused. The kind things they said and the gratitude they both expressed I shall never forget. They did not strenuously urge me to return to the bank, and that seemed strange to me.
“The job's yours if you want it, Ros,” said Captain Jed. “We'd be only too happy to have you if you'd come—any time, sooner or later. But I don't think you will.”
“No,” I answered, “I shall not. I have made other plans. I am going to leave Denboro.”
That did not seem to surprise them and I was still more puzzled. They shook hands and went away, promising to call at the house that evening and bring Nellie.
“She wants to thank you, too, Ros,” said George.
After they had gone I sat by the big door, looking out at the bay, smooth and beautiful in the afternoon sunlight, and thinking of what they had told me. For Mother's sake I was very glad. It would be easier for her, after I had gone; the townspeople would be friendly, instead of disagreeable. For her sake, I was glad. For myself nothing seemed to make any difference. George Taylor's words—those he had spoken to me that fateful evening when I found him with the revolver beside him—came back to me over and over. “Wait until your time comes. Wait until the girl comes along that you care for more than the whole world. And then see what you'd do. See what it would mean to give her up!”
I was seeing. I knew now what it meant.
I rose and went out of the boathouse. I did not care to meet anyone or speak with anyone. I strolled along the path by the bluff, my old walk, that which I had taken so many times and with such varied feelings, never with such miserable ones as now.