In an instant--to
ease off the situation--he held out his hand for Miss Birdseye's
letters, and it was a proof of Olive's having turned rather faint and
weak that she gave them up to him. He delivered the packet to the old
lady, and now Verena had appeared in the doorway of the house. As soon
as she saw him, she blushed crimson; but she did not, like Olive, stand
voiceless.
"Why, Mr. Ransom," she cried out, "where in the world were _you_ washed
ashore?" Miss Birdseye, meanwhile, taking her letters, had no appearance
of observing that the encounter between Olive and her visitor was a kind
of concussion.
It was Verena who eased off the situation; her gay challenge rose to her
lips as promptly as if she had had no cause for embarrassment. She was
not confused even when she blushed, and her alertness may perhaps be
explained by the habit of public speaking. Ransom smiled at her while
she came forward, but he spoke first to Olive, who had already turned
her eyes away from him and gazed at the blue sea-view as if she were
wondering what was going to happen to her at last.
"Of course you are very much surprised to see me; but I hope to be able
to induce you to regard me not absolutely in the light of an intruder. I
found your door open, and I walked in, and Miss Birdseye seemed to think
I might stay. Miss Birdseye, I put myself under your protection; I
invoke you; I appeal to you," the young man went on. "Adopt me, answer
for me, cover me with the mantle of your charity!"
Miss Birdseye looked up from her letters, as if at first she had only
faintly heard his appeal.
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