“Thank you—­Molly,” he said, and he put his hand to his hat though she was not looking at him.

And afterwards he stood among the fragments of his letter and watched till both the girl and the dog were out of sight.

Twenty-four hours later Hugh Durant stood on the sandy shore and tapped with his crutch on the large, flat stone that was set for a step on the threshold of the little, wooden cottage behind the sand dunes.

He had reached the place with much difficulty, persevering with a doggedness characteristic of him; and there were great drops on his forehead though the afternoon was cloudy and cool.

A quick step sounded in answer to his summons, and in a moment his hostess appeared at the open door.

“Why didn’t you come straight in?” she said hospitably.

She was dressed in lilac print.  Her sleeves were turned up to the elbows, and she wore a big apron with a bib.  He noticed that her feet were no longer bare.

He took off his hat as he answered.

“Perhaps I might have been tempted to do so,” he said, “if I had felt equal to mounting the step without assistance.”

“Oh!” She pulled down her sleeves hastily.  “Will you let me help you?” she suggested shyly.

Durant’s eyes were slightly drawn with pain.  Nevertheless they were very friendly as he made reply.

“Do you think you can?” he said.

She took his hat from him with an anxious smile, and then the crutch that he held towards her.

“Tell me exactly what to do!” she said in her sweet, low voice.  “I am very strong.”

“If I may put my arm on your shoulder,” Durant said, “I think it can be managed.  But say at once if it is too much for you!”

Her face was deeply flushed as she bent from the step to give him the help he needed.

“Bear harder!” she said, as he leant his weight upon her.  “Bear much harder!”

There was an odd little quiver in her voice, but, slight as she was, she supported him with sturdy strength.

The door opened straight into the tiny cottage parlour.  A large wicker chair, well cushioned, stood in readiness.  As Durant lowered himself into it, he saw that the girl’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“I’ve hurt you!” he exclaimed.

“No, no!” she said, and turned quickly away.  “You didn’t bear nearly hard enough.”

He laughed a little, though his teeth were clenched.

“You’re a very strong woman, Molly,” he said.

“Oh, I am,” she answered instantly.  “Now shall you be all right while I go to fetch tea?”

“Of course,” he said.  “Pray don’t make a stranger of me!”

She disappeared into the room at the back of the cottage, and he was left alone.  The great dog came in with stately stride and lay down at his feet.