Cora was sure she had seen the light keeper before, but, puzzle her brain over the matter as she might, she could not recall where it was. And the name Margaret seemed to be impressed on her memory, too. It was quite annoying not to be able to recall matters when you wanted to, she thought.
“But I’ll just think no more about it,” mused Cora. “Perhaps it will come to me when I least expect it.”
The lighthouse maid and her father met, and in a few words she told of the accident. He sent a man to tow in the overturned boat.
“But you are wet, too!” he exclaimed to Cora, as he noted her damp skirts and soaked shoes.
“Oh, that’s nothing!” said she. “I pushed off the boat. I don’t know whose it is, by the way.”
“It belongs to Hank Belton,” said the keeper. “He won’t mind you using it. Do you live around here?”
Cora told how they were coming to the bungalows for the summer.
“Ah, then I’ll see you again, miss,” spoke Mr. Haley. “I can’t properly thank you now–I’m that flustered. This has upset me a little, though usually I don’t worry about the children and the water, for they look after themselves. But I’m fair bothered about other matters.”
“I told her, Daddy,” broke in Rosalie. “About Aunt Margaret, you know.”
“Did you? Well, I dare say it was all right. I can’t see why she did it? I can’t see! Going off that way, without notice, and those people to make such unkind insinuations. I can’t understand it!”