Rilla of the Lighthouse

by Grace May North

  CHAPTER XV. THREE MORE GIRLS.

  Upon reaching Windy Island that cold, grey, late afternoon, Muriel wentat once to her Treasure Cave to procure the primer which her Uncle Lemhad given her, and by the aid of which she could read other books andletters containing the simplest words. This she carried to her room abovethe kitchen adjoining the lighthouse. But it was not until the followingmorning, when her tasks were finished, that she was able to slip away todecipher the message from Gene. A drizzling rain was keeping them bothindoors. The old captain, never content when he was idle, had brought tothe warm kitchen a net that he was mending.

  "I'm getting strong by the day," the little letter told the girl, "andthe hope of seeing you very soon again, Muriel, good friend, helps memore than anything else."

  What would the girls in his home set have thought could they have seenthat letter which had been written in the greatest sincerity, for withnone of them did Gene have a serious friendship. They knew him merely asthe good-looking, always good-natured brother of their favorite, HelenBeavers, with whom they bantered merrily. Gene liked them all wellenough, but they wearied him with their constant chatter of tennistournaments and teas, and their ceaseless laughter. No wonder that hispal, David Davison, had often said that most girls seemed to be afflictedwith "giggleitis," but not so Muriel.

  As Gene sat alone hour after hour in a hospital, the windows of whichlooked out across the Hudson, he thought often of the sweet seriousnessof the truly beautiful face of his "storm maiden." Those hazel eyes hadlooked into his very soul, and how thankful he was that he had nothing inthat soul that he wished to conceal.

  She had laughed, now and then, spontaneously, joyfully, but she was verydifferent from the modern girl who laughed continually because shethought it becoming. He couldn't conceive of Muriel doing anything merelyto gain admiration.

  "She's a bully good pal, that's what; so is sis; but there aren't manygirls like those two," was his conclusion.

  Gene had still another month of enforced vacation, as the doctor haddeclared that he would not permit him to return to college until afterthe holidays. Under other circumstances the lad would have fretted aboutthis, but as it was he knew that he was actually eager to spend at leastthe larger part of that month in Tunkett.

  But Gene was not left long alone, for on the very first Saturday afterhis arrival in the New York hospital, his sister Helen and two of herbest friends from the boarding school farther up the Hudson appearedunexpectedly to visit him.

  Gladys Goodsell and Faith Morley were attractive maidens, clad infashionably tailored suits, with muffs to keep their gloved hands warm,for, in spite of the dazzling brightness of the day, the air wasstingingly cold.

  "Oh, brother," Helen protested when she was told that as soon as he wasstronger he was going back to Tunkett, "what _can_ you see in thatoutlandish village?" Then to her friends she added: "I went down thereone week-end with Doctor Winslow, who is an old friend of father's, but Ican assure you that I shall never go again, that is, not out of season.Such queer people as I saw! Honestly, I had to pinch myself to be surethat I hadn't stepped into one of Joseph Lincoln's stories, and, as forunderstanding what the natives said, well, I just couldn't."

  "Maybe you didn't try very hard, Sis." This from the lad who was keepinghis new friend a secret in his heart.

  "Maybe I didn't," was the merry reply, "but if I were going to write acomic story that's where I'd go for my characters and illustrations.Girls, I do wish you might see the clothes worn by the wives of thefishermen. I am sure the dressmaker who made them must have come over inthe ark."

  As Gene listened, lying back among the pillows of hishalf-reclining-chair, he glanced at the costumes of his fair visitors,then, turning, he looked out toward the Hudson, but it was not the steelyblue river that he saw but a girl in a nondescript calico dress with hairwind-blown who was ordering him to leave her island. Looking back at hissister, he said: "You are right, Helen, about the clothes. They aredifferent."

  When at last the girls arose, Helen leaned affectionately over herbrother's reclining-chair. "I don't know what possesses you to want to goto Tunkett of all places during this coming month." Then, wheedlingly:"We're going to have a series of parties at the school just before theholidays, and then there's to be that annual affair over at West Point.Please reconsider, brother dear. Go down for a week or two if you reallythink that it will do you good, but I beg of you, do come back for theholiday fun. Now, promise me!"

  Gene took the gloved hand of his sister, whom he did indeed love dearly."I'll promise to consider, sister mine," he said; then added: "But I'mhardly in trim for night frolics just now."

  Helen noticed how pale and suddenly weary her brother looked and,stooping, she kissed him tenderly on the forehead as she said softly:"Gene, dear, if you are still in Tunkett, I'll come down there and spendChristmas with you. Since mother and father are in Europe, you and I willwant to be together."

  There was a grateful expression in the lad's eyes and then he closedthem, for he found that he was indeed very tired.

  Helen motioned the girls to leave quietly, which they did. What wouldthese three city maidens have thought had they known Gene's real reasonfor wishing to return to Tunkett, for surely the village itself heldlittle to attract one in the severe months of early winter?