r yet," I declared, smiling.

"He's sure the best ever was. Mebbe he might go to courtin' you, ma'am,
and what a happy woman ye'd be."

I don't think I blushed, Aunt Jennie, or showed any particular
embarrassment. I think I simply recognized a tribute of adoration
rendered by the poor soul to one who, in her weary, red eyes, deserved
nothing less than worship.

"I am quite sure he is a splendid man," I answered, quietly. "He is
also taking care of my father, who broke his leg on the rocks, while
salmon-fishing."

"Oh! I knows yer now," said Mrs. Will. "Sammy he told us how you come in
that white steam schooner, wi' brass shinin' all over."

"Yes," I replied.

She began to stare at me, much interested.

"Sich a bonnie lass ye be! I wisht he'd take a fancy ter ye!" she
exclaimed. "Ye'd sure never find a better man nowheres an' ye look as
good as he do. I mistrust ye'd make an awful fine woman fer he."

I could only smile again. Fancy my meeting with matchmakers in this rocky
desert. The poor thing meant well, of course, and I could make no further
answer, for Dr. Grant was returning. He packed all his things away in his
bag, and I went over to the fisherman's bed.

"I am so glad that you are getting along so much better," I told him.

"Thank yer kindly, ma'am," he answered. "I'se sure a whole lot better an'
now we has grub too."

You know how sweet the fields are after a storm, Aunt Jennie. Here it
also looked as if some dreadful black cloud had lifted, so that the sun
shone down again on this desolate place and made it beautiful to the sick
man.

Then I had to swallow some strong tea, without milk, which I abhor. I
trust I managed it with fortitude. The doctor also had to submit.

"The day is fast approaching when I shall perish from an aggravated case
of tea-poisoning," he confided to me. "Everywhere, under penalty of
seeing long faces, I am compelled to swallow it in large doses. I lie
awake nights seeking vainly for some sort of excuse that will be accepted
without breaking hearts."

"I hope that when you feel the symptoms coming you will hasten back to
the security of civilization," I told him.

"Even that is open to question," he answered.

And so we brought the poor man home, Aunt Jennie, and I'm beginning to
feel dreadfully sleepy, so I'll say _au revoir_.

CHAPTER VII

_From John Grant's Diary_

Atkins has just returned from St. John's, bringing loads of things for
the Jelliffes.