The scene is a forlorn little fishing village on the coast of Newfoundland. A New York magnate and his daughter are marooned there for some time while the father is recovering from a fall. The villagers have a doctor whom they adore and the magnate and his daughter promptly follow suit. The story is told partly in the form of the doctor's diary, partly in letters from the girl to her aunt.
vely, "and it is a very good idea. One can always do a man's work up there."
She ate a Nesselrode pudding while I enjoyed coffee and a cigar, to the extent that I forgot to drink the one and allowed the other to go out after a puff or two.
"Your money came from a good St. John's merchant who made it from the people of the outports," she said. "You might spend a little on them now, gracefully. They need it badly enough."
We remained silent for some time, thinking of the bleak coast of our big island, where the price of our little dinner would have represented a large sum, and then we left the restaurant and took a car up town.
When she finally held out her little hand to me it was warm, and I fancied that from it came a current that was comforting, though it may have been but the affectionate regard of some years of good friendship.
"You will dine again with me, next Thursday?" I asked her. "It will take me a few days to get ready."
"Don't you think that Gordian knot h