young gentleman of fortune and family, resident in New
Orleans, who bore the name of St Clare. He had with him a daughter
between five and six years of age, together with a lady who seemed to
claim relationship to both, and to have the little one especially
under her charge. Tom had often caught glimpses of this little girl,
for she was one of those busy, tripping creatures, that can be no
more contained in one place than a sunbeam or a summer breeze; nor
was she one that, once seen, could be easily forgotten. Her form was
the perfection of childish beauty, without its usual chubbiness and
squareness of outline.'

This angelic little creature was attracted by Tom's appearance; and
speaking kindly to him, expressed a hope of serving him, by inducing
her papa to become his purchaser. Tom had just thanked the little lady
for her intentions, when the boat stopped at a landing-place. At its
moving on again, Eva, who leaned imprudently on the railings, fell
overboard. Tom was fortunately standing under her as she fell. 'He saw
her strike the water and sink, and was after her in a moment. A
broad-chested, strong-armed fellow, it was nothing for him to keep
afloat in the water till, in a moment or two, the child rose to the
surface, and he caught her in his arms, and, swimming with her to the
boat-side, handed her up, all dripping, to the grasp of hundreds of
hands, which, as if they had all belonged to one man, were stretched
eagerly out to receive her. A few moments more, and her father bore
her, dripping and senseless, to the ladies' cabin, where, as is usual
in cases of the kind, there ensued a very well-meaning and
kind-hearted strife among the female occupants generally as to who
should do the most things to make a disturbance, and to hinder her
recovery in every way possible.'

Next day, as the vessel approached New Orleans, Tom sat on the lower
deck, with his arms folded, anxiously from time to time turning his
eyes towards a group on the other side of the boat. 'There stood the
fair Evangeline, a little paler than the day before, but otherwise
exhibiting no traces of the accident which had befallen her. A
graceful, elegantly-formed young man stood by her, carelessly leaning
one elbow on a bale of cotton, while a large pocket-book lay open
before him. It was quite evident, at a glance, that the gentleman was
Eva's father. There was the same noble cast of head, the same large
blue eyes, the same golden-brown hair; yet