tter established first and be
making money enough to support a--a family. And Sheila would not
think of leaving the old people up there. They need her so sorely."

"But you may as well know, first as last, Aunt Lucretia, that I mean
to marry Sheila. I know it was wrong in me to try to palm her off on
you as somebody she wasn't--to try to fool you--"

"You did not fool me, Tunis; not for a moment," she told him softly.

He stared at her in amazement.

"No," went on his usually inarticulate aunt. "The moment I first
looked into her face I knew she was not Sarah Honey's daughter. That
baby's eyes were brown when Sarah brought her here years ago; and no
brown eyes could change to such a beautiful violet-blue as--as
Sheila's. I knew you and she were trying to deceive me, but I could
not help loving the dear girl from my first sight of her."

That was a very long speech indeed for Aunt Lucretia to make. She
put her arms about Tunis Latham's neck and said all the rest she
might have said in a loving kiss.

Driving as the storm was, there remained something that took the
skipper of the _Seamew_ out into the welter of it. With the wet snow
plastering his back he climbed out of the saucerlike valley to the
rear premises of the Ball place. He even gave a look in at the barn
to make sure that all the chores were done for the night. The gray
ghost of the Queen of Sheba's face was raised a moment from her
manger while she looked at him inquiringly, blowing softly through
her nostrils the while.

"You're all right, anyway," said Tunis, chuckling as he closed the
barn door. "You've got a friend for life."

He went on to the kitchen door. Inside he could hear the bustle of
Sheila's swift feet, the croon of Prudence's gentle voice, and then
a mighty "A-choon!" as Cap'n Ira relieved his pent-up feelings.

"Don't let them fish cakes burn, gal," the old man drawled. "If
Tunis ain't here mighty quick he can eat his cold. Oh! Here he
is--right to the nick o' time, like the second mate's watch comin'
to breakfast."

Tunis had shaken his peacoat free of the clinging snow and now
stamped his sea-boots on the rug. He smiled broadly and confidently
at Sheila and she returned it so happily that her whole face seemed
to irradiate sunshine. Prudence nudged Cap'n Ira's elbow.

"Ain't it a pretty sight, Ira?" she whispered.

"She looks 'most as sweet as you did, Prue, when I took you to the
altar," sighed the old man windily. "I swan! Wo