d he must surely not take her unaware in
a slatternly moment, but must find her lying on the pillows, wearing her
prettiest nightgown, which was thereupon newly washed and ironed and
stowed away in the bottom drawer of the bureau against his unexpected
coming. But while the snow melted from the hills, and the folk returned
to the coast for the seal fishing, and the west winds carried the ice to
sea, and we waited day by day for the mail-boat, our spirits fell, for
my mother was then fast failing. And I discovered this strange
circumstance: that while her strength withered, her hope grew large, and
she loved to dwell upon the things she would do when the doctor had made
her well; and I wondered why that was, but puzzled to no purpose.

VI

The MAN on The MAIL-BOAT

It was in the dusk of a wet night of early June, with the sea in a
tumble and the wind blowing fretfully from the west of north, that the
mail-boat made our harbour. For three weeks we had kept watch for her,
but in the end we were caught unready--the lookouts in from the
Watchman, my father's crew gone home, ourselves at evening prayer in the
room where my mother lay abed. My father stopped dead in his petition
when the first hoarse, muffled blast of the whistle came uncertain from
the sea, and my own heart fluttered and stood still, until, rising above
the rush of the wind and the noise of the rain upon the panes, the
second blast broke the silence within. Then with a shaking cry of "Lord
God, 'tis she!" my father leaped from his knees, ran for his sea-boots
and oilskins, and shouted from below for my sister to make ready his
lantern. But, indeed, he had to get his lantern for himself; for my
mother, who was now in a flush of excitement, speaking high and
incoherently, would have my sister stay with her to make ready for the
coming of the doctor--to dress her hair, and tidy the room, and lay out
the best coverlet, and help on with the dainty nightgown.

"Ay, mother," my sister said, laughing, to quiet her, "I'll not leave
you. Sure, my father's old enough t' get his own lantern ready."

"The doctor's come!" I shouted, contributing a lad's share to the
excitement. "He've come! Hooray! He've come!"

"Quick, Bessie!" cried my mother. "He'll be here before we know it. And
my hair is in a fearful tangle. The looking-glass, lassie----"

I left them in the thick of this housewifely agitation. Donning my small
oilskins, as best as I could without my k