“May I come in?” he asked.

“Please do so,” I answered.  “We didn’t expect you back until to-morrow.  My father will be delighted to see you, as will your other friends.”

He came in and sat down after he had greeted everybody.  The poor man looked quite worn and harassed.  It was a distinct effort that he made to speak in his usual pleasant way, and I could see that something troubled him.

“I think I will leave you now,” he said, after a few moments.  “I just wanted to find out how Mr. Jelliffe was getting on.  They are expecting me at Sammy’s,”

“Oh!  Do rest for a moment,” I told him.  “You look very tired.”

He sat down again, looking at his feet.

“The wind died down and the tide was bearing us away,” he explained.  “We had to take to the oars.  Pulled a good fifteen miles.  We were rather hurried, for we could see this storm coming up.  I’m glad we made the Cove just in time.”

We could all hear the rain spattering down violently.  Flashes of lightning were nearly continuous and the thunder claps increased in intensity while the wind shook our little house.

“It is all white water outside now,” he said, listening.  “Well, I’ll be off now.”

“Yer ain’t a goin’ ter do nothin’ o’ the kind,” interrupted Susie, who had just entered with another plate.  “There’s plenty tea left an’ if there ain’t I kin make more.  Ye jist bide there till I brings yer some grub.  Ye’re dead weary an’ needs it bad.”

“Do stay,” I sought to persuade him.

“Thank you, you are very kind,” he said.

One could see that for the moment he didn’t care whether he had anything to eat or not, yet he managed to do fair justice to Susie’s cooking.

“I am feeling a great deal better now,” he soon announced.  “I think I was rather fagged out.  We came back so early because I found I was no longer needed.  I am ever so much obliged to you.  I’m afraid I am not very good company to-night and I will be back early in the morning.  That plaster cast is getting a little loose.  We will split it down to-morrow and have a good look at things.”

Mrs. Barnett had risen also and was looking at him.  In her eyes I detected something that was a very sweet, motherly sympathy.  Her quick intuition had shown her that something had gone entirely wrong.  Her smile was so kind and friendly that it seemed to dissolve away something hard that had come over the surface of the man.

“Isn’t there anything that we can do for you?” she asked.

“Nothing!” he exclaimed.  “What can any one expect to do?  What is the use of keeping on trying when one has to be forever bucking against ignorance and stupidity?  There is nothing the matter with me.  Just a dead woman and baby, that is all.  Just a poor, hard-working creature that has scarcely known a moment of real happiness in this world.  She had five little ones already, clinging to her skirts, and a lot of stupid neighbors.