his business; but nothing would
have induced him to leave the poor child in such trouble, and he
stayed on and on, devoting himself to her all day long, soothing her,
telling her sweet things about heaven and God's goodness and love,
letting her talk as much as she liked of papa, and not trying even to
check the crying which such talks always brought on. Eyebright
responded to this kindness with all her warm little heart. She learned
to love Mr. Joyce dearly, and turned to him and clung to him as if he
had been a friend always instead of for a few days only. But all this
time her future remained unsettled, and she was at the same time too
inexperienced and too much oppressed with sorrow to be able to think
about it or make any plans.

Other people were thinking about it, however. Mrs. Downs talked the
matter over with her husband, and told Mr. Joyce that "He" was willing
she should take Eyebright, provided her folks, if she had any, would
consent to have her "bound" to them till she was of age. They never
had kept "help," and she didn't need any now; it wasn't for that she
wanted the child, and as for the binding out, 'twasn't nothing but a
formality, only Mr. Downs was made that way, and liked to have things
done regular and legal. He set store by Eyebright, just as she did
herself, and they'd see that she had a comfortable home and was well
treated in every way. Mrs. Downs meant kindly, but Mr. Joyce had other
schemes for Eyebright. As soon as the fact of her father's death
became certain, he had written to his wife, and he only waited an
answer to propose his plan. It came at last, and as soon as he had
read it, he went in search of Eyebright, who was sitting, as she often
did now, on the bank over the bathing-beach, looking sorrowfully off
toward the sea.

"I have a letter from home," he said, sitting down beside her, "and I
find that I must go back at once,--day after to-morrow at latest."

"Oh, must you?" said Eyebright, in a voice which sounded like a sob.
She hid her face on his arm as she spoke, and he knew that she was
crying.

"Yes; but don't cry, my dear child. I don't mean to leave you here
alone. That is not my plan at all. I want you to come with me. Long
ago, I wrote to my wife to propose this plan, and I only waited to
hear from her before telling you about it. Will you come and live with
us, Eyebright? I can't take your father's place to you,--nobody could
do that, and it wouldn't be right they sh