Suddenly the nurse sprang to her feet. "There is some one," she cried.
"I knew there must be, of course. Why didn't we think of him before?"
Deborah raised her head, a look of doubtful hope on her tear-wet face.
"Mr. Matthews," explained the young woman.
Deborah's face fell. "But, child, the minister's away with the Doctor.
An' what good could he be doin' if he was here, I'd like to know? He's
that poor himself."
"Oh, I don't know what he'd do, but I know he'd do something. He's that
kind of a man," declared the nurse, with such conviction that, against
their judgment, Deborah and Denny took heart.
"And he's not so far away but that he can be reached," added Hope.
That afternoon the dilapidated old hack from Corinth to Gordon's Mills
carried a passenger.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A FISHERMAN
"'Humph!' grunted the other, 'I've noticed that there's a lot of
unnecessary things that have to be done.'"
In the crisis of Deborah's trouble, Hope had turned to Dan impulsively,
as the one woman turns to the one man. When she was powerless in her own
strength to meet the need she looked confidently to him.
But now that she was actually on the way to him, with Corinth behind and
the long road over the hills and through the forests before, she had time
to think, while the conscious object of her journey forced itself on her
thinking.
The thing that the young woman had so dimly foreseen, for herself, of her
friendship with this man, she saw now more clearly, as she realized how
much she had grown to depend upon him--upon the strength of his
companionship.
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