Rod of the Lone Patrol Part 11

"Ye'd better ask 'what's down?' It's that little la.s.s in yon, down in bed, because some numb-skulls thought they could sail a boat. I told 'em this mornin' what I thought of 'em fer takin' a gal like that out on the water, an' they went off in a huff."

"How is she this morning, captain? Rodney told me all about the accident, and so we have come to make inquiries."

"Oh, she's all right, considerin' what she went through. She's all clewed down now and ridin' easy. Guess she'll be there fer some time.

Want to see her?"

"Yes, if she's able to be seen."

"Able! Why, she's the fittest one of the bunch as fer as her mind is concerned. I want to git this chair fixed up fer her as soon as possible. Go right in. I guess ye'll find Betsey in the kitchen."

Mrs. Britt pleasantly received her visitors, and introduced the clergyman to Mrs. Sinclair. The latter was a woman of striking appearance. Her face, of considerable strength and refinement, was marked by lines of care. But it was her eyes which attracted Parson Dan's special attention as he shook hands with her, and inquired after her daughter.

"Oh, Whyn came out of the affair the best of all," and a smile illumined Mrs. Sinclair's face. "I was greatly worried about her last night, but she seems none the worse for her experience. Would you like to see her? I am afraid you will find her a regular little chatter-box."

Mrs. Sinclair said not a word to Rod, in fact she had hardly noticed him. He remained standing in the middle of the room after the others had left, twirling his cap in his nervous hands. He wanted to see the girl, too, but he had not been invited, and he felt indignant. He had the first right to go, so he told himself, for he had helped to rescue her. He thought of going out to the workshop and talking it all over with the captain. He dismissed the idea, however, and perching himself upon a chair, waited to see what would happen.

It seemed a long time to him before the others came out of the girl's room, but in reality it was only a few minutes. There was a smile upon the clergyman's face as he turned to the boy.

"You're the favoured one this morning, Rodney," he said. "The princess wants to see you. She hasn't much use for us older people."

This was astonishing news to Rod, and his knees felt weak as he walked across the floor, and entered the room. He paused when just inside, and stared in amazement at the vision before him. There, lying upon a little cot, was the most wonderful person he had ever beheld. Could it be possible that this was the same girl he had seen all drenched with water the day before? Her hair was flowing over the white pillow like a shining stream of gold. At this moment it was touched by the sun from the southeast window, which added much to the entrancing effect.

And then those eyes! They seemed to read him through and through. But they were laughing eyes now, sparkling with interest and amus.e.m.e.nt.

Rod stood very still, uncertain what to do. So this wonderful girl was a princess, he said to himself. He never dreamed of such a thing when he first saw her the day before. He knew something about princes and princesses, for Mrs. Royal had often read to him stories about such people. So this girl was one of them. He had no doubt about it, for Parson Dan had called her a princess. What should he do? The books told how people got down on their knees to princesses, and kissed their hands. Ah, that was the right thing for him to do now.

Stepping quickly forward, he knelt by the side of the bed, and seizing the girl's right hand which was lying upon the counterpane, he pressed it to his lips. A merry ringing laugh followed this action, which caused Rod to start and lift his head. Was the princess laughing at him? Perhaps he had made some foolish blunder, and she was making fun of him.

"Oh, you queer boy, what did you do that for?" and again the girl laughed.

"Didn't I do it right?" Rod asked, as he sprang to his feet and stood straight before her.

"Do what right?" and the girl looked her surprise.

"Kneel, and kiss your hand. They all do that."

"All who?"

"The people in the stories. They always kiss the hand of a princess when they meet her."

"But I'm not a princess."

"You're not! Grandad said you are, and I guess he knows."

"Ho, ho, isn't that funny?" and the girl's hearty laugh again rang out.

"I'm no princess; I'm just plain Whyn Sinclair. Your grandfather must have been joking. It must be nice to have a grandfather like that.

His eyes are just full of fun. Sit down, and tell me about him."

"He isn't my grandfather," Rod replied, as he took his position upon the edge of a chair close to the bed. He was feeling more at home now in the presence of this beautiful girl, since she was not a princess.

"He isn't your grandfather!"

"No. I haven't any real grandfather, and I never saw my father or mother."

"You didn't! Oh, you poor boy."

"No. I'm only a waif, that's what they call me. I was left at the door of the rectory one night a long time ago when I was a little baby, and Mr. and Mrs. Royal have taken care of me ever since."

"How lovely!" and Whyn clasped her thin white hands together.

"Lovely! What do you mean?"

"Oh, it's so romantic."

"What's that?"

"Just like you read about in stories. Maybe your father and mother are a real prince and princess, or some other great persons, and you were stolen away from them when you were a baby by cruel people. What a story that will make. I shall write about it at once."

"A story!" and Rod's eyes opened wide in surprise. "What are you going to write?"

"You see, I'm an auth.o.r.ess, or rather, I'm going to be one some day. I lie in bed and think out such lovely stories. But this is something real, not a bit like the others. I am going to make so much money, that I shall be able to help mamma, and she won't have to worry as she does."

"What makes her worry?" Rod queried.

"She worries about me. I can't walk, and have to lie in bed all the time. It costs so much for doctors' bills, and though mamma never says a word to me, I can tell what's troubling her. Now, I have a secret, and I am going to tell it to you, if you promise that you won't say a word to any one about it."

"What is it?"

"You won't tell?"

"Don't know until I hear what it is."

"Oh, well, I'll have to keep it to myself, then," and the girl gave a sigh of disappointment. "I was hoping that you would promise, for it would be so nice to relieve my mind by telling some one."

"Maybe I'll promise afterwards," Rod replied.

"That might do," Whyn mused, as she lay very still and looked far off through the window. "Yes, I guess that will do. You see, I once heard the doctor in the city say that I must go to a specialist, and maybe he could cure me."

"What's a specialist?" Rod questioned. "I never heard of it before."

"It's a doctor in some big city like New York, who knows so much. He might be able to make me better, if I could only go to see him."

"Why don't you go, then?"

"I can't," and a slight shade pa.s.sed over the girl's sunny face. "It takes a lot of money, and we are poor. Mamma plays the organ in St.

Barnabas Church on Sundays, and gives music lessons through the week.

But it takes so much to pay doctor bills."

"Where's your father?" Rod asked.