pure joy before either of them cared to put
questions or compare notes. But at last he asked her, "Who was on the
island besides her?"

"Oh," said she, "only my guardian angel. Poor Mr. Welch died the first
week we were here."

He parted the hair on her brow, and kissed it tenderly. "And who is your
guardian angel?"

"Why, you are now, my own papa; and well you have proved it. To think of
your being the one to come, at your age!"

"Well, never mind me. Who has taken such care of my child?--this the sick
girl they frightened me about!"

"Indeed, papa, I was a dying girl. My very hand was wasted. Look at it
now; brown as a berry, but so plump; you owe that to him. And, papa, I
can walk twenty miles without fatigue. And so strong; I could take you up
in my arms and carry, I know. But I am content to eat you." (A shower of
kisses.) "I hope you will like him."

"My own Helen. Ah! I am a happy old man this day. What is his name?"

"Mr. Hazel. He is a clergyman. Oh, papa, I hope you _will_ like him, for
he has saved my life more than once. And then he has been so generous, so
delicate, so patient; for I used him very ill at first; and you will find
my character as much improved as my health; and all owing to Mr. Hazel.
He is a clergyman; and, oh, so good, so humble, so clever, so
self-denying! Ah! how can I ever repay him?"

"Well, I shall be glad to see this paragon, and shake him by the hand.
You may imagine what I feel to any one that is kind to my darling. An old
gentleman? about my age?"

"Oh, no, papa"

"Hum!"

"If he had been old I should not be here; for he has had to fight for me
against cruel men with knives; and work like a horse. He built me a hut,
and made me this cave, and almost killed himself in my service. Poor Mr.
Hazel!"

"How old is he?"

"Dearest papa, I never asked him that; but I think he is four or five
years older than me, and a hundred years better than I shall ever be, I
am afraid. What is the matter, darling?"

"Nothing, child, nothing."

"Don't tell me. Can't I read your dear face?"

"Come, let me read yours. Look me in the face, now; full."

He took her by the shoulders, firmly, but not the least roughly, and
looked straight into her hazel eyes. She blushed at this ordeal--blushed
scarlet; but her eyes, pure as Heaven, faced his fairly, though with a
puzzled look.

He concluded this paternal inspection by kissing her on the brow. "I was
an old fool," he muttered.

"What