Janet of the Dunes | Page 5

down upon the floor, and it happened that a locked
chest stood between them.
"Janet, ye ain't never seen these things, have ye?"
"No, Cap'n Billy." The mocking laugh was gone from the face.
"Ye ain't got no sense of curiosity 'bout anythin', Janet--not even yer
mother. Most girls would have asked questions."
This seemed like a rebuke, and Janet kept silent.
"Ain't ye got no curious feelin' 'bout yer mother?"
"Cap'n Billy, you haven't ever let me miss anything in all my life. I
s'pose that's why I haven't asked. I never knew her, did I, Cap'n Billy?
You made up for everything."
This unnerved Billy.
"That's logic," he nodded, "an' it's good-heartedness, as well; but, Janet,
I'm goin' to tell ye somewhat of yer mother." He took a key from his
pocket, unlocked the chest and raised the lid.
"Them things is hers!" he said reverently. "Little frocks--" Three he laid
out upon the floor. Cheap, rather gaudy they were, but of cut and
fashion unknown to the beach-bred girl. "And little under-thin's, an' a
hat, an' sacque; shoes--just look at them, Janet! Little feet they covered,
but such willin' little feet, always a-trottin' 'bout till the very last, so
turrible afraid they wouldn't be grateful enough. Lord! but that was

what she said." The pitiful store of woman's clothing lay near Janet, but
she made no motion to touch it.
"And this is her!" Captain Billy took a photograph from the bottom of
the chest, unwrapped it from its covering of tissue paper, and handed it
to the quiet girl opposite. "This is her, an' as like as life! The same little
hat on, what she set such store by! I ain't had the heart t' show ye this
before." Janet seized the card eagerly. The light from a small window
in the roof fell full upon it.
"Oh!" she breathed, "she was--why, Cap'n Billy, she was more than
pretty! I think I should have felt her more if I had seen this."
"Maybe, Janet."
"Am--am I like her?"
"Like as not, if ye was whiter an' spindlin'er, there'd be a likeness." An
uneasiness struggled in Billy's inner consciousness as he viewed the
girl. "Ye're more wild-like," he added.
"I wish I had asked a lot about her," Janet whispered, and there was a
mist in her eyes; "I have been careless just because I've been happy. It
seems as if we had sort of pushed her away, and kept her still."
"Well, it's her turn t' speak now, girl, an' that's what I've been steerin'
round t'. Ye're hers an'--"
"And yours, Cap'n Billy, even if you have taught me to say Captain,
instead of Father."
"It was her word for me, child, an' ye added Daddy of yer own will.
'My Cap'n,' she use t' say. It sounded awful soothin'; an' her so grateful
'bout nothin'! Sho! An' she wanted ye to be a help long o' me. Them
was her words. An' Lordy! child, I'm willin' t' work an' share with
ye--but savin' is pretty hard when there ain't nothin' much t' save from,
an' if this summer-boardin' business is goin' t' open up a chance fur ye,
it ain't cause I want help, but she'd like ye t' have more things. Don't ye

see? An' I jest know ye'll get yer innin's on the mainland."
"I have been a selfish girl!" Janet murmured, holding the photograph
closer, "a human crab; just clinging and gripping you. Then running
wild and fighting against you when you wanted me to learn to be useful!
I think, Cap'n Billy, if you had shown me--my mother, and talked more
of her--maybe it would have been different. Maybe not,"--with a soft
sigh,--"I reckon every one has to be ready for seeing. I don't just know
how to--how to get my share from those--those boarders. But I'll find a
way! I mean to be helpful, Cap'n. I can't bring myself to wait on them.
Mrs. Jo G. doesn't seem to mind that, but I do. And I hate to see them
eat--in crowds. But I'll find something to do. Put the clothes in the
carpet-bag, Cap'n Billy Daddy; I may not wear them over there, but I'd
like to have them. May I take the picture?"
"Yes, only be powerful careful o' it. An' don't show it round. Somehow
she seems to belong to nobody but jest us two."
CHAPTER II
Captain David began to climb the long flight of iron stairs. It was his
custom to start early, in order that he might stop upon each landing and
take a view of the land and water on his way up. As David got higher
and higher, his spirits rose in proportion. Below were duty and care;
aloft was the Light, that