"Marcella--I'd be careful."

He was frightened of women-folk unless they were ill. He could talk to
Marcella about impersonal things very interestedly, but suddenly to
become fatherly was difficult. His mouth went dry, his face flushed and
he wished he had asked Aunt Janet to come with them.

She seized his arm eagerly.

"Oh look at the nice, kind little lifeboats! They're not much bigger
than Tammas's boat. Doctor, if we're wrecked isn't it a good thing I can
row and swim? Do you think we might get wrecked? I'd have that nice
little neat boat the third along and rescue the women and children! If
the boat gets full I'll hop out and swim--and if sharks come along I'll
tell them what Aunt Janet said about Hoodie. I think I'd be tough, don't
you?"

Her face clouded at mention of her aunt and Hoodie and the second bell
rang out.

"Only three more minutes," called a steward close to Marcella's side.
"All for the shore ready, please!"

"You'll be looking after Aunt Janet, doctor?" she said gravely. "And
Wullie? He'll miss me--if you'd make it possible to call and have a few
words with him at the hut when you're passing."

"Yes, Marcella," said the doctor, and found his voice strangely husky.
"And look here, Marcella--you'll be careful?"

Her eyes were looking into his, very bright with tears as she took his
hand in hers and walked towards the gangway with him.

"I couldn't be careful if I tried," she said, laughing, though her eyes
got even more damp than ever. "Why should I be careful?"

"You--you might get sea-sick," stammered the doctor despairingly.

"Oh don't be silly! I'm as much at home on the sea as Tammas. Sea-sick
indeed! Whatever next?"

The third bell clanged deafeningly and the siren of the little tender
hooted at the doctor's efforts to be fatherly.

"Any more for the shore, please?" called one of the ship's officers who
stood ready to cast off, and Marcella thought he looked accusingly at
the doctor.

"They'll be taking you along, doctor," she said. "Oh I do wish you were
coming! Good-bye! Good-bye. Oh dear, I do believe I'm going to cry."

"Good-bye, lassie," said the doctor, taking off his glasses as he
stepped on to the gangway and blinked at her. Suddenly she thought he
looked so grey and so lonely that it seemed necessary to comfort him
and, before the man at the gangway could stop her, she had dashed after
him, flung her arms round his neck, kissed him loudly on his ruddy cheek
and ran