William John Hopkins

“ Helena was sitting upon the log in an attitude of dejection, her head in her hands, gazing down with sombre eyes at a row of tins ranged before her and pretending to be busy inspecting the filled tins. She had to keep busy.
She did not look up even after she had become aware of a silent presence, for she thought it was the old man with his barrow of salt. But he did not move, and after a long time she looked up, and it was not Barnet she saw standing at a little distance before her, but a young man, or the wreck of one, tall and bronzed, but lean and thin to emaciation. ”

“ The little white schooner was ready, with her mainsail up. Lydia took the wheel and the baby, while Helena went to help Gotthard. It all went like clockwork. Helena walked aft and sat down beside Lydia.
"I didn't suppose you knew so much about a boat."
"Or a baby," said Lydia. "You thought, I suppose, that I was one of those useless women who don't know how to do anything but scream and who have no interest in life. Well," she added slowly, "I hadn't an interest in life—until I found you at your salt-works, Helena. ”

“ Lydia breathed quickly. "Not repulsive."
"But I suppose no woman could care for a man so disfigured?"
"Is that it?" She was looking at him under lowered lids, a faint smile upon her lips. "Why, I don't know that. Some women, no doubt, would be repelled, but not a woman like—like Helena Horne, for example. Most women do not set such store by a man's looks, and when he has got his disfigurement in the way you have—but why? Is there some woman you would like to have care?" ”

“ And once more the baby caught a glimpse of gold shining, and she clung to Lydia Challis's shoulder and pulled herself to her feet, and she snatched at the gleam of gold, and she got it, and she pulled forth the ring. And she pulled so suddenly and so hard that the slender gold chain was broken and the ring fell, and it bounded once upon the deck and rolled into the scuppers.
"Oh, baby!" Lydia cried. "My ring! What have you done!"
"I'll get it, Lydia," said Helena. And she went down upon one knee and retrieved the ring.
"Here it is, Lydia," she said, smiling. "It's not hurt at all." ”

“ III Again the windmills clacked lazily in the gentle southwest wind, and the sunlight lay warm and comforting on the little square roofs and on the soft white weed that lay between the vats, from which came the sound of slowly trickling water, and upon the old log half buried in the weed, and upon Helena's coils of hair. ”

“ Lydia breathed a faint, shuddering sigh. "Thank you," she said, and she got up slowly, and slowly she walked off between two vats and disappeared.
William Henry looked at the narrow path between the vats. "I'm afraid I've driven her off with my tale of horrors. I'm sorry."
"It's her own fault and serves her right," said Helena. "But you'd better go after her and try to drive the horrors away. I'm sorry she asked you. You were very good to answer her. Give me the baby." ”

“ William Henry was plainly nervous. "Thou art the woman, Lydia. Of course you knew it."
She did not move. "Well?"
He looked puzzled and said nothing.
"Well?" said Lydia again. "I am impatient." She tapped her foot upon the weed. "You have some thing to ask me?"
"Oh," said William Henry desperately. "I have. Will you marry me?"
"Well," said Lydia, with a sigh of relief, "you did get it out at last, didn't you? I thought you never would. And my answer is yes, on one condition. But wait," she added hastily, for he had moved suddenly. "Isn't it customary to say something else first? ”

“ I am not cold. It is horrible to think of a man's being blotted out so utterly—as if he had never been."
"There are many horrible things," William Henry observed, "but that particular thing does not seem so bad. It's better than—oh, well, many things—some ways they have of putting a man out."
Lydia turned and glanced at him, at his scarred face. Then she stared forward again. The schooner drove through the seas, throwing the spray high at every plunge. Helena and even Gotthard had been giving more attention to William Henry than to the boat and her way upon the waters. ”

“ Lydia Challis went red as the ruby in her ring, then white.
"Is it pretty?" she asked quietly. "Is it, baby?"
The baby signified that it was. She seemed to think that it might be good to eat, but Helena stopped her.
"No, treasure," she said. "Give it back now. See, there comes Mr. Barnet with the salt."
Miss Challis dropped the ring into the bosom of her dress.
"I'm afraid," Helena went on, hesitating, "it is time for us to be going. I—I should be glad to have you come home to luncheon with me, unless you have some other——"
"I have no engagements in the world. ”

“ She was clinging to him passionately, her eyes still hidden.
"You look beautiful—divine—to me," she said. "Your poor face, Harry! And your hair! And your two years of horrors! And my pride that sent you away without comfort! ”

“ It was a sort of little place or square, with an old ship's deck-house directly before her, set on low posts, forming one side. At the back of this place rose that long, lean rack, and against the rack, in the sun, lay an ancient ship's mast. It was a great mast that had journeyed over thousands of miles of ocean, and it lay now half buried in the seaweed and the earth, the upper side polished smooth and shiny with much sitting upon it. ”