him. But she did not mean to yield. She
loved her home and her parents; and knowing what she was to them, she
resolved not to encourage the attentions of any lover. George Herbert
was generous and kind--too generous and kind for her to wish to give
him pain, and she therefore contrived, as most women can, and all
gentle and modest women will, if possible, under such circumstances, to
prevent him from acknowledging his love. She must have refused him had
he made a declaration; but he was her friend, and she did not wish to
wound him. She therefore showed unmistakably that his feeling for her
was not returned, and the young man was not slow to take the hint.

At length the holiday was over, and the time came for Grace to return
home. She knew that her father would bring the boat over for her, and
she therefore went down to the shore to meet him. When she saw him
tears of joy came into her eyes; and as soon as he stepped on the
beach, she clung to him with fondest emotion.

"Are you ready to come home, Grace?" he asked.

"Yes, father, quite ready. I have had a very happy time, but there is
no place like home. How is mother, and has the time seemed long to her
as to me?"

"She is well, but is wishing for your return. Are Mr. and Mrs. Herbert
at home?"

"Yes, and they are both waiting to receive you. Come with me."

He went, leaning on his daughter's arm, and feeling the exquisite
pleasure of a parent whose children are lovely and good, and loving and
beloved. When he reached the house, he was most warmly welcomed by the
Herberts, who told him, however, that they did not like to spare Grace
so soon; but as her father had the greatest right to her, they supposed
they must submit.

"Come and look at my stacks, Darling," said Mr. Herbert; and the two
men had a walk together. The lighthouse-keeper greatly enjoyed an
opportunity of holding intercourse with his fellow men, and was not
sorry to have this errand. George was busy preparing his fowling-piece
for the next day, for it was the 12th of August, and he was much
gratified at Mr. Darling's admiration of his spaniels, two beautiful
creatures, that fawned about their master, and showed their attachment
to him by caresses. George was unusually gay--too gay, indeed, to be
quite natural and Grace sighed, as she saw him.

"There is nothing like shooting," he said; "I shall have some most
happy hours on the moors with my gun and dog. There is nothing like a