As the muttered prayers went on I watched the uneasy tossing of the
child, until Susie Sweetapple came in, hurried and dripping.
"You's got ter come home," she said. "Yer father he's bawlin' as how he
wants yer back. My, the poor mite of a young 'un! The face o' he looks
dreadful bad! D'ye know it's most midnight? Come erlong now, ma'am."
I rose, feeling very trembly about the knees. There was nothing that I
could do. I could not let poor Daddy worry any longer about me.
"Come for me, Yves," I told the man, "if he seems worse, or if there is
anything I can do."
He came to me, and I saw that his eyes were full of tears as I put my
hand out to him. He lifted it up to his lips with a sob.
So we two hurried back home. By this time the wind had abated a little,
and the moon was shining through some great rifts in the clouds, the
waters of the cove reflecting a shiny path. The road was no longer in
darkness; I could see it dimly, rising to higher ground.
I will write again very soon,
Your loving
HELEN.
CHAPTER XVII
_From Mr. Walter B. Jelliffe to Miss Jane Van Zandt_
_My dear Jennie_:
You know I'm no great hand at letter writing when I have no stenographer
at hand. It may not be courteous of me to say I am writing to you because
I am the lonesomest old party you have seen in a half a century, but you
have your dear sister's sweet disposition, and I know you will forgive
me.
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