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“So I understand,” said Merefleet. “I hope the reputation will be my protection.”

Young Seton became genial from that point onward. Without being communicative, he managed to convey the impression that he was quite prepared to be friendly. And for some reason unexplained Merefleet was pleased. He went to bed that night with somewhat revised ideas on the subject of society in general and the society of American girls in particular.

CHAPTER V

“Is this the gentleman as was to come and see me? Come in, sir. Come in! My old eyes ain’t so sharp as they used to be, but I can see a many things yet.”

And old Quiller, the fisherman, removed his sou’wester from his snowy head and peered at the visitor from under his hand.

“You don’t know me, eh, Quiller?” Merefleet said.

He was surprised to hear a high voice from the interior of the cottage break in on the old man’s hesitating reply.

“He’s a sort of walking monkey-puzzle, I guess,” said the voice, and a roguish laugh followed the words.

Merefleet looked over old Quiller’s shoulder into the little kitchen. She was standing by the table with her sleeves up to her elbows, making some invalid dish. A shaft of sunlight slanting through the tiny window fell full upon her as she stood. It made him think of the searchlight glory of the previous night. She shone like a princess in her lowly surroundings.

She nodded to him gaily as she met his eyes.

“Come right in!” she said hospitably. “And I shall tell Grandpa Quiller who you are.”

“Aye, but I know,” broke in the old man eagerly. “Master Bernard, ain’t it? That’s right, sonny. That’s right. Yes, come in! There! I never thought to see you again. That I never did. This here’s little missie what comes regular to see my daughter-in-law as has been laid by this week or more. I calls her our good angel,” he ended tenderly. “She’s been the Lord’s own blessing to us ever since she come.”

Merefleet, thus invited, entered and sat down on a wooden chair by the table. Old Quiller turned in also and fussed about him with the solicitude that comes with age.

“No,” he said meditatively, “I never thought to see you again, Master Bernard. Why, it’s twenty year come Michaelmas since you said ‘Good-bye.’ And little miss was with you. Ah, dear! It do make me think of them days to see you in the old place again. I always said as I’d never see the match of little miss but this young lady, sir–she’s just such another, bless her.”

Merefleet, with his eyes on the busy white hands at the table, smiled at the eulogy.

The American girl glanced at him and laughed more softly than usual. “Isn’t he fine?” she said. “I just love that old man.”

Somehow that peculiar voice of hers did not jar upon him quite so painfully as he sat and watched her at her dexterous work. There was something about her employment that revealed to him a side of her that her frivolous manner would never have led him to suspect. While he talked to the old fisherman, more than half his attention was centred on her beautiful, innocent face.

“My!” she suddenly exclaimed, turning upon him with a dazzling smile. “I reckon you’ll almost be equal to beating up an egg yourself if you watch long enough.”

“Perhaps,” said Merefleet.

She laughed gaily. “Are you coming along with Bert and me this afternoon in Quiller’s boat?” she inquired.

“I believed I have engaged Quiller to come and do the hard work for me,” Merefleet said.

“You!” She was bending over the fire, stirring the beaten egg into a saucepan. “Oh, you lazy old Bear!” she said reprovingly. “What good will that do you?”

“I don’t know that I want anything to do me good,” Merefleet returned. He had become almost genial under these unusual circumstances. It was certainly no easy matter to keep this exceedingly sociable young lady at a distance.