chance. His wife and
children are sleeping on the floor, all around me. Once more I am seeking
to preserve one life, that others may go on too, and I ordered the woman
to take a rest, for she has been up two nights.

When I last went to the Jellifies', after changing all my clothes, and
taking all possible precautions, I told her that the child was better,
and that I was under the impression that the antitoxine was having a
favorable effect. Also I informed her that I was going to start Atkins
off to St. John's for another supply in case the malady should spread,
for I only had about enough left for one bad case.

"I hope he makes good time," I said, "but of course one can never tell,
though he's a first rate man and can make his way into the cove in
weather of all kinds, barring an offshore gale. Fog doesn't bother him."

"You have had a sleepless night," she told me. "It must have been hard to
keep awake after all the work you have done in the last few days."

I assured her that I had enjoyed some sleep, having dozed off several
times on my chair. I had ordered Mrs. Atkins, under dire threats, to
awaken me at least every half hour, and she had obeyed fairly well.

"You know that we may perhaps be able to leave to-morrow," she said.

"Yes, it is best that you should," I told her. "Your father is quite well
able to stand the journey now. They can easily warp the schooner up to
the little dock so that he may walk aboard without trouble. I hope this
wind may change soon, for just now it looks rather threatening."

We were walking away from the house, in the direction of the cliff which
forms one of the iron-bound limits of the cove and extends out into the
open sea. Miss Jelliffe was very silent. It is easy to see that she
regrets the idea of leaving, but now something seemed to be oppressing
her.

"You don't know how greatly I shall miss all this," she told me, in a low
voice. "It has been a simple existence full of a charm that has meant
more than all the golf and autos and dancing. I have regretted none of
the yachting or the Newport gayeties. None of those things compare at
all with what one finds in poor old Sweetapple Cove, with all its smell
of fish, or even its rains and fogs. These only blot out an outer world
that seems of little interest now, and after a while the sun always comes
out again."

I walked by her side, and after going for a short distance we sat upon a
rock and looked out over the ocean,