led in colored light from stem to stern; "The Polly," laden
with a crowd of merrymakers in most hilarious mood, coming on a farewell
feast in charge of three white-capped and white-coated waiters; "The
Polly," that swept triumphantly to the mended wharf (where the "Sary Ann"
was slowly recuperating from her damages, in a fresh coat of paint and
brand-new mainsail), and took undisputed possession of Killykinick.

"I just had to come and say good-bye," declared Miss Polly; "and dad said
I could make a party of it, if Marraine would take us in charge. And so
we're to have a real, _real_ last good time."

Then all sat down on the moonlit sands; and the victrola played its gayest
tunes, and the white-capped waiters served good things that quite equalled
Polly's last party. And when that was nearly over, and the guests were
still snapping the French "kisses" and cracking sugar-shelled nuts, Dan
found Miss Stella, who had been chatting with her late patient most of the
evening, standing at his side. Perhaps it was the moonlight, but he
thought he had never seen her look so lovely. Her eyes were like stars,
and there was a soft rose-flush on her cheek, and the smile on her sweet
lips seemed to kindle her whole face into radiance.

"Come sit down on the rocks beside me, Danny,--Miss Winnie's Danny. I've
got some news for you."

"News for me?" Danny lifted his eyes; and Miss Stella saw that, in spite
of all the fun and frolic around him, they looked strangely sad and dull.

"You're not having a good time to-night, are you?" she asked softly.

"Yes, I am--or at least I'm trying," said Dan, stoutly. "It was surely
nice of you all to give us this send off. But--but, you see, I can't help
feeling a little bad, because--because--" and he had to stop to clear the
lump from his throat. "It seems to sort of end things for me."

"O Danny, Danny, no it doesn't!" And now Miss Stella's eyes were stars
indeed. "It's the beginning of things bright and beautiful for you."

And then, in sweet, trembling, joyful tones, she told him all,--told him
of Captain Carleton and the medal; of the pension that was to be his and
Aunt Winnie's; of the kind, strong hand that had been stretched out to
help him, that he might keep on without hindrance,--keep on his upward
way.

"To the stars, Danny," concluded the gentle speaker softly. "We must take
the highest aim, even if we fail to reach it,--to the stars."

"O Miss Stella,--dear, dear Miss Stella!