fretted and tossed, moaned and wailed,
sat up in bed and cried, snapped off attempts at hymns, would not
listen to stories, and received Ethel's attempts at calm grave commands
with bursts of crying, and calls for mamma and papa. The music had
ceased, tuning of violins was heard, and Ethel dreaded the cries being
heard down-stairs. She was at her wits' end, and was thinking who
would most avail, and could be fetched with least sensation, when there
was a soft knock at the door, and Harry's voice said, 'Hollo, what's
the matter here?' In he came with his white glove half on, and
perceiving the state of the case said, 'Can't go to sleep?'

'Oh, Uncle Harry, take me;' and the arms were stretched out, and the
tear-stained face raised up.

'We'll put you to sleep as sound as if you were in a hammock just off
middle watch,' said Harry; and the next moment he had her rolled up in
her little blue dressing-gown, nestling on his broad shoulder, while he
walked up and down the room, crooning out a nautical song, not in
first-rate style, but the effect was perfect; the struggles and sobs
were over, and when at the end of a quarter of an hour Harry paused and
looked at the little thin sharp face, it was softened by peaceful sleep.

Ethel pointed to the door. There stood Flora, her eyes full of tears.

Harry laid the little sleeper on her bed, and covered her up. Flora
laid her arm on his shoulder and gave him such a kiss as she had not
given even when he had come back as from the dead. Then she signed to
them to come, but sped away before them, not trusting herself to speak.
Ethel tarried with Harry, who was in difficulties with gloves too small
for his broad hand, and was pshawing at himself at having let Tom get
them for him at Whitford.

'O, Harry,' said Ethel, 'you are the most really like papa of us all!
How did you come to think of it!'

'I'd have given a good deal if any one would have walked quarter-deck
with me some nights last summer,' said Harry, still intent on the
glove. 'What is to be done, Ethel! that rogue Tom always snaps up all
the beauty. I dare say he has engaged Miss Ward and the widow both.'

It was no time for sentiment; so Ethel suggested getting half into one
glove, and carrying the other.

'You'll be quite irresistible enough, Harry! And if all the beauty is
engaged, I'll dance with you myself.'

'Will you?' cried the lieutenant, with sparkling eyes, 'then you are a
jolly old Ethel! Come