In compliance with the doctor's order and by the exercise of extreme
self-restraint, she refrained from questioning her upon the matter of
her behaviour on the night of the great tide. That Columbine would have
enlightened her had she done so was exceedingly doubtful. But there was
no doubt that something very unusual had taken place. The little white
roses that Rufus presented as a daily offering would have told her that,
apart from any other indications. She would have questioned Rufus, but
something held her back; and Adam, when urged thereto, flatly refused to
interfere.

Adam, rejuvenated and jubilant, went whistling about his work as of
yore. His boy had come back to him in the flesh, and he was more than
satisfied to leave things as they were.

"Leave 'em alone, Missus!" was his counsel "Rufus he knows what he's
about. He'll steer a straight course, and he'll bring her into harbour
sooner or later. You leave it to him, and be thankful that curly-topped
chap has sheered off at last!"

Mrs. Peck had no choice but to obey, but her anxiety regarding Columbine
did not diminish. The girl was so listless, so unlike herself, so
miserable. It was many days before she summoned the energy to dress, and
even then she displayed an almost painful reluctance to go downstairs.
She seemed to live in continual dread of some approaching ordeal.

"I believe it's Rufus she's afraid of," was Mrs. Peck's verdict.

But Adam scouted the idea as absurd. "What will you think of next,
woman? Why, any one can see as he's quiet and well-behaved enough for
any lass. She's missing the curly-topped chap a bit maybe. But she'll