“Well—­really! I must say that of all the insolent —­impertinent—­insufferable—­”

“He says you would have amounted to something if you’d had half a chance.  But he’s afraid you never will, Aunt Kate.”

“I do not wish to hear anything more about him,” said Aunt Kate haughtily.  “Now, or at any future time.”

But it was not five minutes later she asked, with studied indifference:  “Pray what does this absurd being look like?”

“What being, Aunt Kate?” innocently inquired the being who was very young.

“Why this sympathetic gentleman!”

“Oh, I don’t know.  He’s just a man.  Sometimes he wears boots.  He’s real nice, Aunt Kate.”

“Oh I’m sure he must be charming!”

She turned toward home, more erect, attending to her duties with a dignified sense of responsibility.

The glare of day had gone, but without bringing the cool of night.  It made the world seem very worn.  Little by little resentment slipped away and she had joined the man who mended the boats in pitying herself.  She was disposed to agree with him that she might have amounted to something had she had half a chance.  No one else had ever thought of her amounting to anything—­amounting, or not amounting.  They had merely thought of her as Katie Jones.  And certainly no one else had ever pitied her.  It made the man who mended the boats seem a wise and tender being.  As against the whole world she felt drawn to his large and kindly understanding.

Excitement had suddenly seized Worth.  “Aunt Kate—­Aunt Kate!” he cried peremptorily, pointing to a cove in one of the islands they were passing, “please land there!”

“Why no, Worth, we can’t land.  It’s too hard.  And why should we?”

“Oh Aunt Kate—­please!  Oh please!”

She was puzzled.  “But why, Worthie?”

“Cause I want you to.  Don’t you love me ’t all any more, Aunt Kate?”

That was too much.  He was suddenly just a baby who had been made to suffer for her grown-up disturbances.  “But, dearie, what will you do when we land?”

“I want to look for something.  I’ve got to get something.  I want to show you something.  ’Twon’t take but a minute.”

“What do you want to show me, dear?”

“Why I can’t tell you, Aunt Kate.  It’s a surprise.  It’s a beautifulest surprise.  Something I want to show you just because I love you, Aunt Kate.”

Katie’s eyes brooded over him.  “Dear little chappie, and Aunt Kate’s a cross mean old thing, isn’t she?”

“Not if she’ll stop the boat,” said crafty Worth.

She laughed and surveyed the shore.  It looked feasible.  “I’m very ‘easy,’ Worth.  Just don’t get it into your head all the world is as easy as I am.”

The little boy and the dog were out before she had made her landing.  They were running through the brush.  “Worth,” she called, “don’t go far.  Don’t go out of sound.”