chin rose a trifle higher.

"And besides," she continued, "I would rather just be indebted to Zenas
Henry and my own family. My grandmother was unjust to my parents,
unkind. Although she lived to be sorry for it and would, doubtless,
have done differently when she was older, she was harsh and cruel to
them. I have forgiven but I never can forget it. I don't want the Lee
money. Zenas Henry and the three captains give me all I need, and I
have no fears but that in the future Bob can look out for me."

There was something in the proudly poised figure, so slender and erect,
so firm and self-respecting in its calm decision, that roused every
hearer's admiration and drew from the New York financier an involuntary
homage. Nevertheless with a fear that impulse might have prompted the
girl's verdict, he felt impelled to explain:

"But you are tossing away a large sum--thousands, child! You and your
people would be rich."

"We don't want to be rich!" cried Delight, with quivering nostril. "Do
we, Zenas Henry?" she slipped an arm about his neck as he collapsed
into his seat on the piazza rail. "We are happy just as we are! You
don't want me to take the Lee money, do you?" she asked, putting her
cheek against his.

"No, honey, no! You shan't be beholden to any one but me," he
answered. "I hoped you'd decide as you have. 'Twould take half the
pleasure out of my life if it warn't us that was to do for you. Just
the same, Mr. Galbraith, we thank you kindly for bringin' the offer,
an' your friend for makin' it; an' though we refuse it, 'tain't done in
no unfriendly spirit."

"I understand that," nodded the financier.

Nevertheless he gazed with no small amount of awe and respect at these
poor fisherfolk who could so lightly fling aside a fortune.

"Mebbe," resumed Zenas Henry, "you'll tell this friend of Madam Lee's
that we've took note of his squareness."

"Oh, yes, do tell him that it was splendid of him, splendid!"
interrupted Delight.

"He's a gentleman, whoever he is," Captain Phineas added. "Tell him so
from all of us."

"You might like to tell him so yourselves," returned Mr. Galbraith
slowly.

"Eh?" Zenas Henry questioned. "Oh, we might write him, you mean.
That's so. Likely it would be more decent. We'd be surer of his
knowin' how we felt if 'twas put down in black an' white. What's his
name?"

"Robert Morton."

"Robert Morton! Robert Mor--not our--not _Bob_!"

"Yes."

He saw Delight