another father, and I shall only be able to breathe by
stealth, and to consider that as more than I deserve. You must admit
that all this is rather a poor look-out a-head."

"Really, Willis," said Mrs. Wolston, "you seem to take a pride in
making things worse than they are, conjuring up phantoms that have no
existence."

"It is true, madam. I may be going upon a wrong tack. Judging from all
appearances, the sloop, instead of being on her way to the Cape, is
tranquilly reposing at the bottom of the sea. But it is only death for
death; hanged by a court-martial or drowned with the sloop, it comes,
in the end, to the same thing."

"I dare say, Willis, had there really been an accident, and you had
been on board, you would not have felt yourself entitled to escape?"

"Certainly not, madam; unless the crew could be saved, it would look
anything but well for the pilot to escape alone."

Willis, however, to do him justice, seemed trying to smother his
grief; and, in the meanwhile, the two girls had been spreading a pure
white cloth on a neighboring rock, cutting fruit plates out of the
thick mangoe leaves, cooling the Rockhouse malaga in the brook, and
giving to the repast an air of elegance and refinement which had the
effect of augmenting the appetite of the company. The viands were not
better than they had been on many similar occasions, but they were now
more artistically displayed, and consequently more inviting.

Who has not remarked, in passing through a street of dingy-looking
houses, one of them distinguished from the others by its fresh and
cheerful aspect, the windows garnished with a luxuriant screen of
flowers, with curtains on either side of snowy whiteness and elaborate
workmanship? Very likely the passer-by has asked himself, Why is this
house not as neglected, tattered, and dirty as its wretched neighbors?
The answer is simple; there dwells in this house a young girl, blithe,
frolicsome, and joyous, singing with the lark, and, like a butterfly,
floating from her book to her work-box--from her mother's cheek to her
father's, leaving an impress of her youthfulness and purity on
whatever she touches.

For a like reason the _al fresco_ dinner of this day had a charm that
no such feast had been observed to possess before.

"We are not presentable," said Fritz, referring to his seal-gut
uniform.

"Ah," replied Mrs. Wolston, "it is your costume of war, brave knights;
and, for my part, I admire you more in