Rilla of the Lighthouse

  CHAPTER XL. JOY AND FAITH VISIT TUNKETT.

  The blinding snowstorm which had started the night before, as Muriel andCaptain Barney had returned from Windy Island, increased in fury duringthe night and even Muriel did not care to battle through the elements thenext day to visit the cabins on the dunes. She indeed was curious to seethe address to which the letter was to be sent and she looked eagerly outat the storm, wondering how long it would last.

  Miss Gordon was so interested in her book that she did not noticeMuriel's suppressed excitement. The girl could think of nothing but theletter and its possible reception by the Mr. Storm, who, of course, washer father.

  What if this unknown father might prove to be someone for whom she couldnot care? But she put that thought away from her. Of course she woulddearly love the man whom her girl-mother had loved and trusted.

  Then she wondered how far the letter would have to travel to reach himand how long a time would elapse before she would have a reply. Wouldthat reply bid her go to another part of America to live?

  It was midmorning when the girl's revery was interrupted by the ringingof the telephone. Skipping to the doctor's study, she lifted the receiverand upon hearing the voice at the other end her face brightened.

  "Oh, Uncle Lem, I'm so glad you were able to get away. Yes, I'll sendJabez right down to the station. You want Brazilla to make a doublequantity of clam chowder. Why, Uncle Lem, how hungry you must be. Allright, I'll tell her. Good-bye."

  "Oh, isn't that the jolliest!" Muriel beamed at Miss Gordon, whose bookhad been dropped to her lap when she learned that Doctor Winslow was intown. Into the kitchen the girl skipped when Jabez had been notified.

  "What can I do to help?" Rilla asked, and Brazilla replied: "Well, maybeyou'd better fetch out the best cloth and set the table extra fine. Ireckon another log on the hearth would make the dinin'-room more cheerfullike. Then thar's a geranium on the south window sill that blossomed thismorning. You might put that in the middle."

  "Put it in the middle of the fire?" the girl asked merrily. Then shewhirled about and kissed the astonished housekeeper on the forehead.

  "Oh, Brazilla," she exclaimed, "please don't mind my nonsense. I'm soexcited about something that I can't tell yet that I don't know what I amabout."

  "Wall, I should say, Rilly, that suthin' onusual must a-gone to yer head.You don't act at all natural, an' yer cheeks are so red."

  Then, anxiously, the good woman added: "You don't feel feverish, do you?"

  "No, Brazilla. Honest Injun, I'm all right. Now I'll get busy."

  The table was all set, and most attractive it looked when the joyousringing of sleighbells was heard in the drive.

  Muriel waited until she heard a stamping of feet on the front porch, thenshe threw open the door and uttered a cry of joy, for with the gooddoctor were her two best friends.

  "Oh, Joy! Faith! What a wonderful surprise!" In spite of their snowygarments she hugged them both, then whirling and shaking a finger at thedoctor, she accused: "Now I know why you pretended to be so ravenouslyhungry and ordered a double portion of clam chowder."

  "Guilty!" The doctor kissed his glowing-eyed ward; then, leaving thegirls with their hostess, he went into the living-room in search of MissGordon. He found her standing by the fireplace.

  "Helen," he said impulsively as he advanced toward her, "you can't knowwhat it means to me to find you waiting to welcome me by my ownhearth-side which for so many years has been deserted and lonely; solonely, Helen, since mother left."

  Just why there were tears in the sweet grey eyes that were lifted to himMiss Gordon could not have told, for the realization had come to themboth that this was truly a moment for rejoicing; but all that the littlewoman said was, "I've been lonely, too, Lemuel."

  Just at that moment into the room danced Muriel, leading the two laughinggirls, whose heavy wraps had been removed.

  The older woman turned to greet them and the physician went to his ownroom to prepare for his evening meal.

  "Isn't this just like a party?" Rilla exclaimed half an hour later whenthey were seated about the long table. "Oh, girls, I had been hoping thatyou would come for a week-end, as you had promised, but how did youhappen to be with Uncle Lem?"

  "We met Doctor Winslow in the station at New York and when we told himthat we were coming to stay at the inn in Tunkett for a few days hedeclared that we must be your guests in his home, and, of course, we wereonly too glad to accept."

  Many times during the evening repast the physician's eyes wandered to theface of his ward. Her cheeks were glowing, almost feverishly, and thelight in her eyes was unnatural and her excited chatter, he was sure, wasnot entirely because of the unexpected arrival of her friends.

  When they were leaving the table, he drew her aside, saying, "Muriel, Iwould like to see you in my study."

  The girl excused herself and accompanied him. As soon as the door wasclosed, the physician turned and placed his cool hand on her cheeks andbrow. He said: "Little girl, are you ill or has something happened thatis troubling you?"

  To his great surprise Muriel threw her arms about his neck and began tosob.

  "No, Uncle Lem, nothing troubles me; that is, it doesn't yet. UncleBarney has written a letter to my own father to tell him about me, and,oh, Uncle Lem, what if he should not care for me? Every night since I waslittle I've prayed for that dear father who never came for me, and I'veprayed God to send him to me some time because my girl-mother so lovedhim; but now that at last he is to know about me I am so afraid that hewill not want me."

  This, then, had been the real cause of her feverish excitement.

  The physician drew Muriel down beside him upon a couch and asked her totell all that had happened. He had never known about the address in thelittle iron box, for although he had been a close friend of EzraBassett's in their boyhood, the physician had been away much of the timein later years.

  "Dear," he said comfortingly, "do not be fearful. The little that I haveheard of your artist father leads me to believe that, although evidentlypoor, he was possessed of high ideals and was very talented. I cannotbelieve that he has purposely neglected you all of these years. Now dryyour tears and go back to your friends with a happy heart and be surethat the tender love you have given your father is now to be returned toyou."

  When the girl had left him, the physician bent his head on his hands. Andso he was to lose Muriel. One by one those who were dear to him had lefthim and in his old age he was to be alone, for it would be presumptuouson his part to ask so lovely a woman as Miss Gordon to share the littlehe had to offer. But at that moment he recalled the tears in the greyeyes and the break in the voice that had said, "I, too, have beenlonely."

  Rising, he thought, "I will go to Helen and ask her if she cares to sharemy home."