"Child? to me? But you don't remember me, Captain?"
"Indeed, and I do, and well remember you. And it's the beautiful woman you've grown to be. But you always were a lovely child. It's often my wife spoke of you and wondered how you were. She's heard me speak of your father a hundred times, I know. A brave man your father, girl. And she'll be glad to see you any time, little girl--or the daughter of any fisherman lost at sea. If ever you have a blue day, go to her, for 'tis she has the heart--and, God bless her, an extra weakness for orphans. Her own children some day--there's no telling. But good-night to you, dear"--he patted her head--"good-night all. Wesley, Tommie, Patsie--all of ye, good-night. In the morning we'll have it out." Out the door he went, and I fancied there was almost a
