Part 39 (1/2)
”Bless his little face!” Mrs. Nibson said, as she lifted him up to kiss her. ”What a darling he looks, Bill! And he has not forgotten us a bit.”
”He could not well forget in a week,” Bill said, rather gruffly, for he, too, was moved by the warmth of the child's welcome. ”Well, let us go on board and pay our respects. She is a fine barge, surely; and she has got the same name as the child.”
”Why, it is not 'Jack,'” his wife said, looking up.
”Jack!” her husband repeated scornfully. ”Didn't they call him Walter the other day? Go on, wife; the lady is waiting at the end of the plank for you.”
Mrs. Nibson put the child down and followed him across the plank, smoothing her ap.r.o.n as she went.
”My best respects, miss,” she said, as Hilda shook hands with her warmly.
”We are glad to see you again, Mrs. Nibson, and hope that you have not missed Walter very much.”
”I cannot say that I have not missed him a good deal, miss, but, luckily, we have had other things to think about. We are giving up the farm; it is lonesome here in the winter, and I am going to take to barge life again.”
”Well, what do you think of this barge, Mr. Nibson?” Hilda asked.
”I allow she is a handsome craft, and she ought to be fast.”
”She is fast. We have been sailing about until there was enough water in the creek, and we have pa.s.sed every barge that we have come near. She is comfortable, too. Come below and look at her cabin.”
”Well, I never!” Mrs. Nibson said, pausing in astonishment at the foot of the ladder. ”I have been in many barge cabins, but never saw one like this.” Her surprise increased when the door of the bulkhead was opened and she saw the sleeping cabin beyond. ”Did you ever, Bill?”
”No, I never saw two cabins in a barge before,” her husband said. ”I suppose, miss, the owner must have had the cabin specially done up for his own use sometimes, and the crew lived forward.”
”There is a place forward for the second hand,” she replied, ”and I suppose the owner will sleep here.”
”Of course it is a loss of s.p.a.ce, but she will carry a big load, too.
Who is the owner, miss, if I may make so bold as to ask?”
”The registered owner is William Nibson,” Hilda said quietly.
The bargeman and his wife gazed at each other in astonishment.
”But,” he said hesitatingly, ”I have never heard of any owner of that name.”
”Except yourself, Nibson.”
”Yes, except myself; but I am not an owner, as I have sold the _Mary Ann_.”
”There is no other owner now,” she said, ”that I know of, of that name.
The barge is yours. It is bought as testimony of our grat.i.tude for the kindness that you have shown Walter, and you see it is named after him.”
”It is too much, miss,” said Bill huskily, while his wife burst into tears. ”It is too much altogether. We only did our duty to the child, and we were well paid for it.”
”You did more than your duty,” Hilda said. ”The money might pay for food and shelter and clothes, but money cannot buy love, and that is what you gave, both of you; and it is for that that we now pay as well as we can.”
”Miss Covington should say 'I,'” Netta broke in, ”for it is her present entirely. Walter's trustees could not touch his money for the purpose, and so she has done it herself.”