“I’m so glad.”

She seemed to mean it.  He looked at her.

“Thank you,” he said drily.  “I’m rather glad myself.”

“Oh!  I didn’t mean it exactly that way.  Of course I’m glad you weren’t drowned, but I’m especially glad that—­that one of our family saved you.  Now you won’t believe that Come-Outers are all bad.”

“I never believed it.”

She shook her head.

“Oh, yes, you did,” she affirmed stubbornly.  “You’ve heard nothing good of us since you came here.  Don’t tell fibs, Mr. Ellery.”

“But I assure you—­”

“Nonsense!  Does—­well, does Cap’n Daniels, or his daughter, say anything good of us?  Be honest, do they?”

“I hardly think—­that is, I shouldn’t call their opinions unprejudiced.  And, Miss Van Horne, perhaps the prejudice isn’t all on one side.  What did your uncle say about Cap’n Nat’s meeting me the other day?”

“Uncle Eben doesn’t know.  Nat didn’t tell anyone but me.  He doesn’t boast.  And uncle would be glad he helped you.  As I told you before, Mr. Ellery, I’m not ashamed of my uncle.  He has been so good to me that I never can repay him, never!  When my own father was drowned he took me in, a little orphan that would probably have been sent to a home, and no father could be kinder or more indulgent than he has been.  Anything I asked for I got, and at last I learned not to ask for too much.  No self-denial on his part was too great, if he could please me.  When he needed money most he said nothing to me, but insisted that I should be educated.  I didn’t know until afterwards of the self-sacrifice my four years at the Middleboro Academy meant to him.”

The minister had listened eagerly to this defense of the man whom he had been led to consider his arch enemy.  It was given with spirit and the girl’s head was uplifted and her eyes flashed as she spoke.  Ellery’s next remark was uttered without premeditation.  Really, he was thinking aloud.

“So you went away to school?” he mused.  “That is why—­”

“That is why I don’t say ‘never done nothin’’ and ‘be you’ and ‘hain’t neither.’  Yes, thank you, that’s why.  I don’t wonder you were surprised.”

The young man blushed.

“You misunderstand me,” he protested.  “I didn’t mean—­”

“Oh! yes, you did.  Not precisely that, perhaps, but pretty near it.  I suppose you expected me to speak like Josiah Badger or Kyan Pepper.  I try not to.  And I try not to say ‘immejitly,’ too,” she added, with a mischievous twinkle.

Ellery recognized the “immejitly” quotation and laughed.

“I never heard but one person say that,” he observed.  “And he isn’t a Come-Outer.”

“No, he isn’t.  Well, this lesson in English can’t be very interesting to you, Mr. Ellery, and I must go.  But I’m very glad Nat helped you the other day and that you realize the sort of man he is.  And I’m glad I have had the opportunity to tell you more about Uncle Eben.  I owe him so much that I ought to be glad—­yes, glad and proud and happy, too, to gratify his least wish.  I must!  I know I must, no matter how I—­What am I talking about?  Yes, Mr. Ellery, I’m glad if I have helped you to understand my uncle better and why I love and respect him.  If you knew him as I do, you would respect him, too.  Good-by.”