Courage smiles in acknowledgment of the introduction, for, indeed, she does not feel equal to talking yet, and so keeps perfectly quiet, listening to all the others—to David's reiterated self-accusations for forgetting, in his haste, to make sure that the children were clear of the draw; to Sylvia's excited account of the way she had “jes' ter scrabble” to get over in time; to Miss Julia's explanation of how they had set out at that late hour, and on a sudden impulse, to pay a call down at Elberon, and of how, in her eagerness to spend as little time as possible on the road, she had forgotten to walk the ponies over the draw; and then to her description of her terror when the scream smote her ears, and she reined in her ponies so suddenly as to almost throw them over backward; until, at last, Courage herself feels inclined to put in a little word of her own.
“And you didn't hear me call at all, Mr. David?” she asked in a low little voice.
“Never a word, darling—never a word. Oh, it's dreadful to think what might ha' happened, and I so careless!”
“It's all right now though, Mr. David,” Courage said comfortingly, “but it was terrible to have to jump at the last moment like that. I thought I couldn't at first, that no team would be likely to come over so late, and then—oh, it's wonderful how many things you can think just in a moment—I remembered that Miss Julia was over the draw, and I felt I must try to do it,” and Courage looked toward Miss Julia with eyes that said, “There is nothing in the world I would not try to do for you,” and then what did Miss Julia herself do but break right down and cry.
“Oh, why are you crying?” asked Courage, greatly troubled.
“Because I cannot help it, Courage. It was so brave to risk so much, and all for my sake, too.”
“But I was not really brave, Miss Julia. You see”—and as though fully convinced of the logic of her position—“I think I was not going to do it at all till I remembered about you. And if I hadn't, and even if no one had happened to come on the bridge, I should have been ashamed of it always every time any one called me Courage.”
“And so you are not going to take the least credit to yourself,” said Mr. Everett, Miss Julia's brother. “Well, you certainly are a most unheard-of little personage.”
Courage was not at all sure whether this was complimentary or otherwise, but no matter. She had not much thought or heed for anything beyond the fact that Miss Julia was crying, and she very much wished she wouldn't.
Meanwhile, Miss Julia's sister sat thinking her own thoughts with a sad, far-away look in her eyes. She knew that little blue coat so well, and this was not the first time she had come across it since, months before, she had sent it away, expecting never to see it again.