at was in
it on the day of her arrival weeks before.

She had taken a seat at the far end of the piazza, and she now looked
about her to see who might be near her.

A tall matron, standing at a short distance, turned, and seeing a
large rocker behind Mrs. Harcourt, walked slowly over, and seated
herself in it. She had just arrived, and so had not yet seen Gwen.

Here was a chance to talk to a listener who did not know her little
daughter, and Mrs. Harcourt grasped it.

"You doubtless heard me telling the others how everyone loves my small
girl," she said.

"Yes, I heard what you said," the woman replied, in a manner that
implied her lack of interest, but Mrs. Harcourt did not notice that.

"Well, really, when you see Gwen, you will not wonder, for you, like
everyone else, will enjoy her. She's _so_ original."

Just at this point those who sat near the railing noticed two odd
looking figures toiling up the rough-hewn stairway on the cliff.

Those who watched them turned to exchange amused glances, and then
look toward Mrs. Harcourt.

Quite unaware of what was going on, Mrs. Harcourt continued:

"As I was saying, Gwen is really very unusual, and original, and at
the same time, she is so very sweet tempered, that----," but the
sentence was interrupted by the appearance upon the piazza of a rough
looking fisherman, and a drenched, and very dirty small girl, whose
sailor frock was wet with sea water, and be-daubed with cement. Her
eyes were red and swollen with crying, her hair had lost its ribbon,
and hung about her face. Truly she did not look attractive.

"Could any of you fine ladies put down your needles long 'nough ter
hear where I found this little lass?" said the man, "fer she looks
like she needed 'tendin' to."

Gwen could at once have run to her mother, but she chose to cling to
the fisherman's rough hand, and be gazed upon as an abused child. Mrs.
Harcourt, trying to decide which shade of silk to use, did not even
look up. She did not dream that Gwen had returned.

So surprised were the guests that, for the moment, no one spoke, and
the man continued:

"Me'n' my mates found her floating out ter sea in a ol' tub what the
carpenters had been usin' fer cement, an' we pulled her in. As the
tub was a leakin', I guess 'twas 'bout time 'less ye wanted her ter be
drownded."

A shrill cry from Mrs. Harcourt followed by the sound of hurrying
feet, and then:

"Oh, Gwen, my dear! Come away from that rough