antidote which speedily restored her.

Do you think, good reader, that Nigel and Winnie had much difficulty in
coming to an understanding after that, or that the hermit was disposed
to throw any obstacles in the way of true love? If you do, let us assure
you that you are mistaken. Surely this is information enough for any
intelligent reader.

Still, it may be interesting to add, difficulties did not all at once
disappear. The perplexities that had already assailed Nigel more than
once assailed him again--perplexities about a negro man-servant, and a
household monkey, and a hermit father-in-law, and a small income--to
say nothing of a disconsolate mother-poetess in England and a father
roving on the high seas! How to overcome these difficulties gave him
much thought and trouble; but they were overcome at last. That which
seemed impossible to man proved to be child's-play in the hands of
woman. Winnie solved the difficulty by suggesting that they should all
return to the Cocos-Keeling Islands and dwell together there for
evermore!

* * * * *

Let us drop in on them, good reader, at a later period, have a look at
them, and bid them all good-bye.

On a green knoll by the margin of the lagoon stands a beautiful cottage
with a garden around it, and a pleasure-boat resting on the white coral
sand in front. From the windows of that cottage there is a most
magnificent view of the lagoon with its numerous islets and its
picturesque palm-trees. Within that cottage dwell Nigel and Winnie, and
a brown-eyed, brown-haired, fair-skinned baby girl who is "the most
extraordinary angel that ever was born." It has a nurse of its own, but
is chiefly waited on and attended to by an antique poetess, who dwells
in another cottage, a stone's-cast off, on the same green knoll. There
she inspires an ancient mariner with poetical sentiments--not your
up-in-the-clouds, reef-point-pattering nonsense, observe; but the real
genuine article, superior to "that other fellow's," you know--when not
actively engaged with _the_ baby.

The first cottage is named Rakata, in honour of our hermit, who is one
of its inhabitants. The second is named Krakatoa by its eccentric owner,
Captain Roy.

It must not be imagined, however, that our friends have settled down
there to spend their lives in idleness. By no means. This probably would
not be permitted by the "King of the Cocos Islands" even if they wished
to do so. But they