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"It has been a simple existence full of a charm that has meant more than all the golf and autos and dancing. I have regretted none of the yachting or the Newport gayeties. None of those things compare at all with what one finds in poor old Sweetapple Cove, with all its smell of fish, or even its rains and fogs.
"We will leave to-morrow, if you want to," he said, in a rather abrupt way. Do you know, Aunt Jennie, that when he said that I just gasped a little. It suddenly seemed so strange that we would have to go away soon, and that I might never see Sweetapple Cove again, and those dear Barnetts, and all the people, for the whole lot of them appear to have a way of stealing into one's heart.
"I am under the impression that it is just the place for me," I told him. "There is really good salmon fishing in Sweetapple River," he began, excitedly, "and you can get caribou within a day's walk, and there are lots of trout, and..." I could see that he was eager to find some redeeming points for Sweetapple Cove. "Behold the tempter," I laughed. "Dear me!
"Twenty-two; no, it's twenty-three and just a little bit over. I know it is the best fish taken from Sweetapple River this year. They haven't been running any larger," I said. Then we all sat down again and admired the fish. Frenchy and I lighted our pipes, and I took the little Silver Doctor from the leader.
She is the best example I have ever seen of the sturdy, beautiful girlhood of modern life, and is an utter pleasure to look upon. After a time we started towards Sweetapple Cove. The meat, or as much of it as we could carry, had all been tied up in packs. I was able to take a good load of it and Susie trudged along, bearing the big caribou head upon her shoulders.
They have given up their two best rooms to me, at a rental so small that I am somewhat ashamed to tender it, at the end of every week. I also obtain the constant care and the pleasant smiles of a good old housewife who appears to take a certain amount of pride in her lodger. As far as I know I am the only boarder in Sweetapple Cove, as well as the only doctor.
I didn't quite know what Daddy meant, because it is sometimes difficult to know whether he is jesting or in earnest. He once told me that this was a rather good business asset. "Well, Daddy," I finally said. "I am afraid you will have to take me away, or I shall be falling so much in love with Sweetapple Cove that I will never want to leave it again."
I need hardly tell you that these people are as amphibious as manatees. Once within doors I scrutinized the doctor. He was a rather nice tall chap with hair showing slightly the dearth of barbers in Sweetapple Cove, a fact Daddy had informed himself of, for I had seen him looking disconsolately at a safety razor.
I want my girl nearer to me than in Sweetapple Cove! After a time I pulled out the letter Mr. Barnett had handed me. It was from that young rascal Harry Lawrence. He says he's heard from you about that caribou shooting, and wants to come up anyway and find out how I look after my tough summer in this neck of the woods, and he's never been to Newfoundland anyway, etc., etc.
I was interested to note that the tune was from a fairly recent comic opera that can hardly have reached the general population of Sweetapple Cove. "There is your crank," I said, rather viciously. He knocked at the door and came in, breezily, as he generally does. "I've got to be off," he announced. "I shall probably not return till to-morrow night, or perhaps the morning after.
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