“Mustn't I? No, I suppose I mustn't. Thank you, Mr. Bangs. Nelson and I
are ever and ever so much obliged to you. You are a great comfort to me.
I told Martha that very thing yesterday,” she added.
Galusha could not help looking pleased. “Did you, indeed?” he observed.
“Well, well--ah--dear me, that was a rather rash statement, wasn't it?”
“Not a bit. And do you want to know what she said? She said you were a
great comfort to a good many people, Mr. Bangs. So there; you see!”
That evening the moon rolled, like a silver bowl, over the liquid rim of
the horizon, and, upsetting, spilled shimmering, shining, dancing
fire in a broad path from sky edge to the beach at the foot of Gould's
Bluffs. At the top of that bluff, in the rear of a clump of bayberry
bushes which shielded them from the gaze of possible watchers at the
lighthouse, Nelson Howard and Lulie, walking slowly back and forth, saw
it rise.
Nelson told her the good news he had mentioned in his letter. It was
that he had been offered a position as operator at the great wireless
station in Trumet. It was what he had been striving for and hoping for
and his war record in the radio service had made it possible for him
to obtain it. The pay was good to begin with and the prospect of
advancement bright.
“And, of course, the best of it is,” he said, “that I shall be no
further away from you than I am now. Trumet isn't a bit farther than
South Wellmouth. There! Don't you think that my good news IS good news?”
Of course she did and said so.
“And I'm awfully proud of you, too,” she told him.
“Nothing to be proud of; I'm lucky, that's all. And don't you see, dear,
how this is going to help us? I shall be earning good pay and I shall
save every cent possible, you can bet on that. Rooms are furnished by
the company for single men, and houses, nice, comfortable houses, for
the married ones. In three months, or in six at the most, I shall have
added enough to what I have saved already to make it possible for us to
be married. And we WILL be married. Just think of you and me having one
of those pretty little houses for our own, and being there together, in
our home! Just think of it! Won't it be wonderful!”
He looked down into her face and smiled and she, looking up into his,
smiled, too. But she shook her head, nevertheless.
“Yes, dear,” she said, “it would be wonderful. But it's too wonderful to
be true, I'm afraid.”
“Why? Nonsense! Of course it can be true. And it's going to be, too, in
six months, perhaps sooner.”
But still she shook her head.
“It can't be, Nelson,” she said, sadly. “Don't you see it can't? There
is father.”
“Your father will be all right. That's one of the good things about this
new job of mine. You will be only a little way from him. He'll be here
at the light, with Zach to look after him, and you can come over every
few days to make sure things are going as they should. Why--”
She touched his lips with her fingers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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