and duty!

"All day!" the girl thought; "all day, and not to let me know! Oh, Cap'n
Daddy, what mischief have you been up to?" The quivering smile rose over
the hurt, but anxiety lay deep in the troubled heart.

A crash of thunder rent the air! A blinding flash of lightning turned
the black bay to a molten sea. Janet could see it through the glass of
the outer door in the entry.

"Janet!"

"Yes, Susan Jane."

"Come away from the draught! I think you might know, how if you got
struck by lightnin' I couldn't do a blessed thing but look at you."
Janet came into the darkened room.

"Light the lamp!" Susan commanded. "I ain't goin' t' save oil, when I'm
in this state. Oh! Janet,"--a splintering crash shook the house,--"did
you ever hear the like?"

"It's pretty bad, Susan Jane!" But the girl was thinking of the little
boat struggling on the bay, the strong hand upon the tiller, and the
faithful heart, fearless in the midst of danger.

"Janet, since you ain't got no nerves, can you read t' me an' sort o'
drown the storm? I'm powerful shaken. I can't run if the house is
struck; I can't do nothin' but jest suffer." The woman was crying
miserably.

"I'll read to you, Susan Jane; and the storm's passing. I can count
now."

"How many? How many, Janet?" A blinding flash showed around the green
curtain's edge and dimmed the light of the kerosene lamp.

"One--two." The awful crash stilled the word.

"'T ain't fur enough off, Janet, to trust any! Oh! God help me! If I
could only put my hands over my ears!" But the poor, helpless hands lay
white and shrivelled in the woman's lap.

"Here, Susan Jane. Shut your eyes tight and lean your head upon my
shoulder. There! Now when I see the flash I will cover your ears. That
will help."

"Janet,"--a mildness stole into the peevish, whining voice,--"Janet,
times is, when I see that Billy warn't all wrong in his bringin' of you
up. He's sort o' left the softness like a baby in you." The hidden eyes
did not see the glare, but the thin form quivered as the girl's firm
hands were pressed over the sensitive ears.

"It's kinder muffled-like," panted the woman. "In between, Janet, can
you say any of it?"

"Your chapter, Susan?"

"Yes. David knows the most of it, an' nights, bad nights, he says it
when he ain't so plumb sleepy he can't."

"I'll say what I can, Susan Jane." The gray head nestled close to the
strong young shoulder. The nagging woman rested, breathing deep. The
fi