llian spoke briskly, "just lean your head against
my shoulder, shut your eyes, and try to rest for a little; I know that
sand with a rain coat covering doesn't make the most comfortable couch
in the world, but I think I can hold you so that you may be able to
take a tiny nap."
What Dicky surmised concerning the events of the afternoon, I do not
know. He must have known that the girl was madly in love with him.
Something had happened to put an end to the infatuation into which he
had been slipping so rapidly.
Had he become tired of the girl's open pursuit of him? Had he guessed
to what lengths her desperation had driven her? Had the shock of my
narrow escape from drowning startled him into a fresh realization of
his love for me?
I felt too weak even to guess the solution of the riddle. All I wanted
to do was to nestle close to Dicky's side, to be taken care of and
petted like a baby.
The ride home through the sunset was a quiet one. To me it was one of
the happiest hours of my life.
Dicky, fussing over me as if I were a fragile piece of china, sat in
the most sheltered corner of the boat, and held me securely against
him, protecting me with his arm from any sudden lurch or jolt the boat
might give.
Seemingly by a tacit agreement, the others of the party left us to
ourselves. They talked in subdued tones, apparently unwilling to spoil
the wonderful beauty of the twilight ride home with much conversation.
When the boat landed, Harry Underwood, at Dicky's suggestion,
telephoned for taxis to meet the little trolley, upon which we
journeyed from the beach to Crest Haven. One of these bore the Durkees
and Grace Draper to their homes; the other was to carry Harry and
Lillian, with Dicky and me, to the old Brennan house.
Dr. Pettit, who was to take a train back to the city, came up to us
after we were seated in the taxi:
"I would advise that you go directly to bed, Mrs. Graham," he said,
with his most professional air. "You have had an unusual shock, and
rest is the one imperative thing."
I felt that common courtesy demanded that I extend an invitation to
the physician to call at our home when next he came to Marvin, but
fear of Dicky's possible displeasure tied my tongue. I could not do
anything to jeopardize the happiness so newly restored to me.
To my great surprise, however, Dicky impulsively extended his hand and
smiled upon the young physician:
"Thanks ever so much, old man," he said cordially,
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