Indeed, he had already taken part in the spring hunt, and though he gave
no hint that he had guessed what was in their minds, he knew well enough
that the plea that he was needed at home to assist Mrs. Abel at the work
was a subterfuge of his foster parents, instigated, he had no doubt, by
Skipper Ed. He was also satisfied that the real reason why he was left
at home was because they deemed him not yet strong enough, as a result
of his own recent illness, to withstand the unavoidable exposure and
hardships to which the seal hunters would be subjected on the open and
unprotected coast. And he had to confess to himself that he had not
indeed recovered the full measure of his activity and hardihood, and
that there was reason and justice in their course.
A raw wind was blowing, but a fair wind, and in a little while the boat,
bowling before the breeze with all sail set, was lost to view. Then,
disconsolately, Bobby turned back to the cabin, but Mrs. Abel took good
care that he was kept so busy that he soon forgot his disappointment in
work.
And that day he and Mrs. Abel had a jolly dinner of boiled goose, and
tea, and that evening they sat a full hour beyond their bedtime while
she recounted to him in her own quaint way the story of his coming from
the place where mists and storms are born, and told him how he was sent
by God to be their son, and how little he was, and how ill he was when
Abel first placed him in her arms, and how she had hugged him to her,
and had nursed away his fever, and how glad she and Abel had always been
that God had sent them a son.
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