“Surely, Doctor Thayer, it is a Providence that we came in just here, where people will know me and will help me.  I need shelter for a little while, and care for my sick friend here.  Where can we go?”

Doctor Thayer cast a judicial eye over the landscape, while he held his hat up into the breeze.  “It’s going to clear; it’ll be a fine afternoon,” said he.  Then deliberately:  “Why don’t you go up to the old red house?  Sallie Kingsbury’s there keeping it, just as she did when Hercules was alive; waiting for you or the lawyer or somebody to turn her out, I guess.  And it’s only five miles by the good road.  You couldn’t go to any of these sailor shacks down here, and the big summer hotel over yonder isn’t any place for a sick man, let alone a lady without her trunk.”

Agatha looked in amazement at the doctor.  “Go to the old red house—­to stay?”

“Why not?  If you’re Agatha Redmond, it’s yours, isn’t it?  And I guess nobody’s going to dispute your being Agatha Shaw’s daughter, looking as you do.  The house is big enough for all creation; and, besides, they’ve been on pins and needles, waiting for you to come, or write, or do something.”  The doctor gave a grim chuckle.  “Hercules surprised them all some, by his will.  But they’ll all be glad to see you, I guess, unless it is Sister Susan.  She was always pretty hard on Hercules; and she didn’t approve of the will—­thought the house ought to go to the Foundling Asylum.”

Agatha looked as if she saw the gates of Eden opened to her.  “But could I really go there?  Would it be all right?  I’ve not even seen the lawyer.”  There was no need of answers to her questions; she knew already that the old red house would receive her, would be a refuge for herself and for James, who needed a refuge so sorely.

The doctor was already making his plans.  “I’ll drive this man here,” indicating James, “and he’ll need some one to nurse him for a while, too.  You can go up in one of Simon Nash’s wagons; and I’ll get a nurse up there as soon as I can.”

The launch had tied up to the larger dock, and Hand and Little Simon had been waiting some minutes while Agatha and the doctor conferred together.  Now, as Agatha hesitated, the businesslike Hand was at her elbow.  “I can help you, Mademoiselle, if you will let me.  I have had some experience with sick men.”  Agatha looked at him with grateful eyes, only half realizing what it was he was offering.  The doctor did not wait, but immediately took the arrangement for granted.  He began giving orders in the tone of a man who knows just what he wants done, and knows also that he will be obeyed.

“You stay here, Mr. Hand, and help with this gentleman; and Little Simon, here, you go up to your father’s livery stable and harness up, quick as you can.  Then drive up to my place and get the boy to bring my buggy down here, with the white horse.  Quick, you understand?  Tell them the doctor’s waiting.”