“Oh, dear me!” and Miss Arabella began to fan herself with an old newspaper she picked up from off the table.  “I never got such a shock in all my life.  I don’t know what people are coming to these days when an old man like your husband will act in such a way.  I came over on purpose to see that girl you have here, and it has nearly cost me my life.”

“Have one of these doughnuts, dear,” Mrs. Britt soothed.  “I shall get you some of my home-made wine, which will make you feel better.”  And the good woman bustled off to the pantry, from which she shortly emerged with a well-filled glass.

“That does make me feel better,” Miss Arabella remarked, after she had drunk the wine and eaten two doughnuts.  “That walk has certainly given me an appetite.”

“And I guess you’ll feel better still when you see Whyn,” Mrs. Britt replied, as she led her visitor into the front bedroom.

The invalid girl was sitting by the open window in the big chair the captain had fitted up for her.  Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her eyes were sparkling with animation.  She was holding a small signalling chart in her hands, at the same time giving instructions to the captain outside.

“Try that again,” she was saying.  “Don’t hold your arms so stiff.  There, that’s better.”

Hearing the sound of footsteps, she turned suddenly and her eyes fell upon Miss Arabella’s lank form and thin face.  For an instant only she hesitated before reaching out her delicate white hand.

“Oh, you’re Miss Arabella,” she exclaimed.  “I’m very glad to see you, and it’s so good of you to come.  Sit down, please.”

“For pity’s sake, how do you know who I am?” was the astonished reply.

“A little bird told me,” and Whyn gave a merry laugh.

“H’m.  I guess it was a bird without any feathers, and a little red head.”

“Yes, that’s who it was.  You see, I know most of the people in this place, though I have met only a few.  Rod told me that you were sick, and what you look like.”

“He did, did he?  And I suppose he told you that I had a long nose which was always poking into other people’s business.”

“Why, no!” and Whyn’s face grew suddenly sober.  “He never told me anything like that.  He only said that you were thin, with a sad face, and that you were very lonely, with no one to love you.”

“So he said that, did he?” and a softer expression came into the woman’s grey eyes.  “But I suppose he told you a whole lot more, though?”

“Only about how he put the key down your neck,” and again Whyn smiled.  “Wasn’t it a funny way to do a good turn?”

“Not very funny for me, Miss,” and the visitor tossed her head.  “But tell me, how old are you?”

“Just sixteen,” was the reply.

“What’s wrong with you, anyway?  You don’t look very sick.”

“It’s my back.  I am not able to walk, and can sit up only for a little while each day.”