by, like it
sometimes happens after a stormy, lowerin' day, the sun bu'st through,
an' toward the close the glory seemed right startlin'. I can see her
face a shinin' now every time I shet my eyes. An' she grew that wise an'
far-seein' that it made me oneasy. 'T warn't nateral, an' she such a
soft little thin'!" Billy passed his rough hand over his dry, hot lips.
"Then you come, an' she slipped her moorin's."

The two were staring dumbly, sufferingly, at each other. Billy saw the
agony he had awakened and his heart sank within him. After a moment of
silent doubt, Janet arose and stood in front of Billy, laying her cold
hands upon his shoulders. There was no need for her news now!

"My Cap'n," she whispered, with a fervor Billy had never heard in her
voice before; "my Cap'n, I am a woman, a woman like my mother. Tell me,
as true as heaven, am I your Janet and hers?" Billy's deep eyes pleaded
for mercy, but the woman before him would not relent. There was a
heartrending pause, then:

"No, ye ain't! God help us, ye ain't! But He's let me love ye like ye
was--an' that's been my reward."

Janet shut her eyes for a moment and clung to Billy. In that space of
time it was given to her to see a way to redeem the past. When she
opened her eyes, the misery was gone. She was smiling, and there was no
mist between her and Billy. She went beside him and drew his shaggy head
upon her strong breast as a mother might have done; then she bent and
kissed him.

"Dear, dear Cap'n Daddy! I see it all. My mother was wondrous wise when
she took you for her pilot. Oh! my Daddy--for you are my father. In all
the world there never was such a father! We'll cling close, Daddy, won't
we, dear? Nobody shall ever come between us, promise that, oh, promise
it!"

"As God hears, never!" Poor Billy broke under the load of love and
gratitude, and bowed his head upon the table. But the girl, her face
glowing with a strange radiance, did not loosen her hold; she bent with
him.

Had Billy been more worldly-wise, he might have suspected that this
vehemence had root in something beside filial love, but Billy was never
one to question a gift from God. Whenever his simple soul, chastened by
suffering and earnest endeavor, took courage, he always thanked heaven
and returned to his common tasks. When he looked up now, the old calm
had settled upon his face.

"An' so, Janet," he said, "ye can tell me free an' easy 'bout that
painter-chap over t' the Hills