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Page 47
She stopped suddenly enough; for Roger, coming through the fields
with the milk, heard this piteous sobbing, and setting down his
cans, parted the branches of the apple tree, saying in his kindest
voice: "Why, my Kitty, my Pretty, what is the matter with you? who
hurt my little--I--I beg your pardon, Miss Grahame!"
Hildegarde felt the hand of fate very heavy on her, but was quite
helpless, and sobbed harder than ever.
What was a poor professor to do? Fortunately, Roger had plenty of
sisters, and knew that a girl did not kill herself when she cried.
After a moment's thought, in which he reminded himself severely
that he was getting to be an old fellow, and might be this child's
uncle, he came under the tree and sat down on the grass.
"Can you tell me what troubles you?" he asked, still in the gentle
voice that was rather specially Kitty's privilege. "You have had
no bad news?"
Hilda shook her head.
"Perhaps if you were to tell me what the trouble is, I could help
you; or would you rather I would go away and not bother you?"
No! Hildegarde, to her own amazement, would rather he stayed.
Whereupon, Roger, drawing from his experience of girls, perceived
that there was nothing to do but sit and wait till the storm had
spent itself. So he picked the apples within his reach, and
reflected on the feminine character.
Presently a small and shaken voice said from under the
handkerchief, "I--am so sorry--you got wet, Captain Roger!"
"Got wet?" said Roger, vaguely. He was generally more or less wet,
being an amphibious creature, and did not for the moment grasp
Hildegarde's meaning.
"I ran--the--boat aground, and you jumped overboard, and got--all
wet!" and Hildegarde sobbed afresh.
"You don't mean--" said Roger. "You are not troubled about THAT?"
But it appeared that Hildegarde was troubled about that.
"My dear child, do you think I did not see that it was not your
fault? You were doing beautifully, if that--if Miss Everton had
let you alone for an instant. And do you think I mind a wetting,
or twenty wettings? Miss Hilda, I thought you knew better than
that."
"I was so stupid!" said Hildegarde, wiping her eyes, and trying to
speak evenly. "I thought you were very angry, because you were so
silent. I thought you would never--"
"Silent, was I? Well, you know I am in a brown study half the
time. Isn't that why they call me Roger the Codger? But this
time,--oh, I remember! I was trying to make out how that shoal
came to be there, when it is not buoyed out on the map. Come, Miss
Hilda, you must laugh now!"
And Hilda laughed, and dried her eyes, and looked up,
"All kinder smily round the lips,
And teary round the lashes."
"That's right!" said Roger, heartily. "Now you shall be Kitty, and
we will---we will shake hands and be friends, and eat an apple
together. Kitty and I always do that when we have had a tiff."
So they did; and the apples on that tree were the best apples in
the world.
CHAPTER XIII.
IN PERIL BY WATER.
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