An hour later, dressed in Miss Scott’s gray wrapper and rose-colored shawl, Ruth came slowly to the beach leaning on Captain John’s arm, while Aunt Mary waved her napkin from the rocks above, and sent kind messages after them as they pushed off.

It was the loveliest hour of all the day.  The sun had not yet risen, but sea and sky were rosy with the flush of dawn; the small waves rippled up the sand, the wind blew fresh and fragrant from hayfields far away, and in the grove the birds were singing, as they only sing at peep of day.  A still, soft, happy time before the work and worry of the world began, the peaceful moment which is so precious to those who have learned to love its balm and consecrate its beauty with their prayers.

Ruth sat silent, looking about her as if she saw a new heaven and earth, and had no words in which to tell the feeling that made her eyes so soft, sent the fresh color back into her cheeks, and touched her lips with something sweeter than a smile.

Captain John rowed very slowly, watching her with a new expression in his face; and when she drew a long breath, a happy sort of sigh, he leaned forward to ask, as if he knew what brought it,—­

“You are glad to be alive, Ruth?”

“Oh, so glad!  I didn’t want to die; life’s very pleasant now,” she answered, with her frank eyes meeting his so gratefully.

“Even though it’s hard?”

“It’s easier lately; you and dear Miss Mary have helped so much, I see my way clear, and mean to go right on, real brave and cheerful, sure I’ll get my wish at last.”

“So do I!” and Captain John laughed a queer, happy laugh, as he bent to his oars again, with the look of a man who knew where he was going and longed to get there as soon as possible.

“I hope you will.  I wish I could help anyway to pay for all you’ve done for me.  I know you don’t want to be thanked for fishing me up, but I mean to do it all the same, if I can, some time;” and Ruth’s voice was full of tender energy as she looked down into the deep green water where her life would have ended but for him.

“What did you think of when you went down so quietly?  Those women said you never called for help once.”

“I had no breath to call.  I knew you were near, I hoped you’d come, and I thought of poor Grandpa and Sammy as I gave up and seemed to go to sleep.”

A very simple answer, but it made Captain John beam with delight; and the morning red seemed to glow all over his brown face as he rowed across the quiet bay, looking at Ruth sitting opposite, so changed by the soft becoming colors of her dress, the late danger, and the dreams that still lingered in her mind, making it hard to feel that she was the same girl who went that way only a day ago.

Presently the Captain spoke again in a tone that was both eager and anxious,—­

“I’m glad my idle summer hasn’t been quite wasted.  It’s over now, and I’m off in a few days for a year’s cruise, you know.”