His noisy launch at last came chug-chugging up the Bay. He started with the far point of the Crescent and called at every creek, cove and landing at which there was a home. Then he crept along the shore-line to Jake's place.
My turn next,—I soliloquised. But, no!—he held out, waving his hand in salutation.
It was evidently his intention to make a call on Miss Grant before finishing his Sabbath labours at my bungalow.
He stayed there a long time: so long, that I was beginning to give up hope of his ever getting my length; but, finally, his cheery voice hailed me from my doorway and roused my drooping spirits.
His pale, gentle face was wreathed in smiles.
"Good boy! Good boy!" he commented. "God bless you! He is blessing you,—eh, George!"
"How is the lady?" I inquired.
"Almost as well as ever," he replied. "She has had a severe shake-up though. It must have been touch and go.
"She was up, George, and talked to me. She told me everything she could remember; how she refused to take your well-intentioned advice, and suffered the consequences of her folly. She gave me this note for you."
He held out an envelope and I took it and put it in my pocket.