“And her father?” put in Mary.
“You’ll have to ask Dr. Hume about that,” answered Billie, and not another word would she say on the subject.
That morning the “Comet” conveyed a load of young people down to the village. Miss Campbell ordered a telegram to be sent to her cousin, demanding his immediate presence at the camp. Also a carpenter was secured to build a new door for the living room. This time the village street was singularly empty. No faces peeped from the half opened doors and no crowd gathered at the town pump. The rickety old wooden hotel was closed and the blinds drawn at every window. Evidently Richard Hook had frightened Lupo and the innkeeper very effectually.
“I don’t think they will ever trouble us again, Phoebe,” Billie remarked as they circled the pump and started home.
“They are sorry,” said Phoebe compassionately. “They are like children, and Mr. Hook understood that when he spoke to them as children. He is very wonderful and very good.”
“He is indeed,” agreed Billie. “He is a very remarkable young man.”
Phoebe seemed about to speak again, but kept silent. It was difficult for her to carry on a conversation.
“I love him,” she said at last, so simply and innocently that Billie smiled in spite of the earnestness of Phoebe’s expression.
“You love everyone, do you not, Phoebe? It is what you have learned by yourself up here in the mountain.”
“I cannot do that,” answered Phoebe. “I have tried but I cannot. But I love Mr. Hook. May God protect him always and reward him for his kindness.”