“When does the mortgage come due?”
“Next month.”
Madge had heard her uncle remark that the local bankers were very reluctant to make loans at the present time and Anne’s prospects appeared especially slim.
“Well, I wish you luck,” she said turning to leave. “Things may straighten themselves out before the mortgage falls due.”
The next few days found Madge too busy to paddle over to the island for three guests arrived from the city to try their fishing luck. They asked endless questions, demanded constant service and had enormous appetites. In spite of the extra housework, Madge had time to consider Anne’s problem but she could think of no way out. Often too, her eyes turned toward Lookout 48 but while she frequently saw Jack French glide by in his canoe he never stopped at the lodge. Once she saw him carry a large box of groceries to Stewart Island.
“He has other things to do besides come to see me,” she told herself. “Why should I care?”
Yet she knew she did care a great deal.
One afternoon toward the end of the week, Madge was snatching a few minutes rest on the veranda when the telephone rang. Mrs. Brady answered, and soon stepped outside to speak to her niece.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Madge, but a stranger just telephoned from the White farmhouse. Jack French is bringing him out from town. He wants us to put him up for a few days.”
“Friend of Jack’s?”