The lunch was daintily served and Gene became so interested in his companion’s tales of storms and wrecks at sea, simply yet dramatically told, that he ate far more heartily than he would have done alone. Miss Brazilla made no comment, but she was secretly pleased.
Having cleared the table, she surprised Muriel by bringing in two dishes heaped with ice cream in which were preserved strawberries.
Gene Beavers was to pay a fabulous price for that out-of-season dessert, but when he saw the glad light dawning in the hazel eyes of his guest he decided it was well worth it.
“I only had ice cream once before,” she confessed, “an’ that was when Mis’ Sol had some left over that was like to melt.”
After lunch Muriel told her host that he ought to sleep a while, and, when she assured him that she could stay all afternoon, the truly weary lad consented to rest, while Rilla helped Miss Brazilla in the kitchen.
An hour later when the lad awakened, refreshed, he saw that Muriel was again in the comfortable wicker chair at his side, looking with great interest at the beautifully colored pictures in a large book that she held.
She glanced up glowingly when she heard a movement on the couch. “The readin’ in it is about the sea, I reckon, from the pictures of boats and pirates,” she told him.
“It is indeed,” Gene exclaimed with enthusiasm. “That’s Treasure Island. If you’ll prop me up more I’ll read to you, if you wish.”
Some time later, when Dr. Winslow returned, he found Gene reading aloud from his favorite book, while Muriel, leaning forward, listened hungrily.
“Well, little Nurse Rilla,” the good man exclaimed, “our patient is much better, I can see that at a glance. I’m sorry to hurry you away, but your boatswain Sol is waiting for you down at the gate. Your grand-dad told him to sail you back to Windy Island along about this time, but you’re to come again and often.”
That night Captain Ezra pushed his armchair back from the table, and while he was lighting his pipe he looked at his “gal,” his eyes twinkling. “Rilly,” he said, “yo’ve been gabblin’ faster’n chain lightnin’ one hour by the clock, an’ things are sort o’ muddled in my mind. I dunno, for sure sartin, whether it’s Billy Bones or Gene Beavers yo’ve been over to the mainland a visitin’.”