The young arms were about the old man’s neck and her fresh young cheek rested against the forehead that was leathered by exposure to the sun and wind and beating rain.
There was a twinkle in the grey eye that was nearest her.
“I cal-late as ’twould add to ol’ Cap’n Barney’s cheer if the stewardess herself toted them cookies to his stranded ol’ craft on the dunes. Was that what yo’ was figgerin’ on doin’, fust mate?”
“If yo’d like to take me, Grand-dad.” This very demurely. The old sea captain put down his knife and fork and laughed heartily.
“I reckon a gal who knows how to sail a boat better’n most folks don’ need a boatman to cruise her over to the mainland. Sho now, Rilly! Navigate yer own craft. The embargo’s lifted, as the newspapers put it. Come and go when it’s to yer likin’. Jest be lettin’ me know.” Then he added, as though it were an after-thought: “When yo’ carry yer cargo o’ cakes to town, if I was yo’ I’d leave a few at Miss Brazilla’s cottage. I reckon yer new friend might be likin’ the taste o’ suthin’ differ’nt.”
Muriel’s cheeks were rosy. “Grand-dad,” she protested, “I wa’n’t thinkin’ of Gene Beavers, honest I wa’n’t! I just reckoned ’twasn’t fair for me to be spendin’ a whole arternoon wi’ a _new_ friend when an ol’ one who’s been lovin’ me for years back is laid up in drydock an’ needs me even more.”
The hazel eyes looked across the table so frankly that the teasing twinkle faded in the grey eyes and an expression of infinite tenderness took its place.
“I reckon I understand, fust mate,” the old man said. “Cap’n Barney’s got a heart in him as big as the hold in a freight boat, but thar’s a powerful lot of loneliness in it, for all that he’s allays doin’ neighborly things for the folks on the dunes. Barney’s been hankerin’ for years to be goin’ back to his ol’ mother, but she keeps writin’ him to be stayin’ in America, and that she’ll come to keep his house as soon as her duty’s done, but she don’ come, for it’s this un’ and that un’ over thar that’s in need of her ministrin’. Some day, I reckon, Barney’ll pull up anchor and set sail for his Emerald Isle.”
“Oh, Grand-dad,” Rilla said, with sudden tears in her eyes, “you’n me’ll be that lonely if he goes.”