sy Jane; and most
of all of Nick and Billy, her chosen comrades and almost brothers. One
and all the young Fogartys listened open-mouthed and delighted; but,
when pressed to talk more about that "grandpa you're lookin' for," poor
Glory grew silent.

It was one of the loveliest spots in the world where Glory sat that
morning, with its view of field and mountain and the wonderful river
winding placidly between; but the outcast child would have exchanged it
all for just one glimpse of a squalid alley, and a tiny familiar
doorway, wherein an old seaman should be sitting carving a bit of wood.

Thinking of him, though not talking, she became less interesting company
to the Fogartys, who withdrew one by one, attracted by the odor of
dinner preparing, and hungry for the scraps which would be tossed among
them by their indulgent mother.

Bonny Angel went to sleep; and, holding her snugly, Glory herself leaned
back against the tree trunk where she was sitting and closed her own
eyes. She did this the better to mature her plans for the search she
meant to resume that very day, if possible, and certainly by the morrow
at the latest. Now that Bonny was so nearly well, she must go on; and as
her head whirled with the thoughts which swarmed it, it seemed to her
that she had "grown as old as old since grandpa went away."

Glory at last decided that she had best stop thinking and planning
altogether, just for a moment, and go to sleep as Bonny Angel had done.
She remembered that grandpa had often said that a nap of "forty winks"
would clear his own head and set him up lively for the rest of the day.
Whatever Captain Simon Beck, in his great wisdom said was right, must be
so; and though it seemed very lazy for a big girl such as she to take
"forty winks" on her own account and in the daytime, she did take them
and with so many repetitions of the "forty" that the boarders had all
come home across the fields before she roused again to know what was
going on about her.

There was a hum of voices on the other side of the tree; and though they
were low, as if not intended for her ear, they were also very earnest
and in evident dispute over some subject which she gradually learned was
none other than herself.

She had been going to call out to them, cheerily, but what she heard
made her sit up and listen closely. Not very honorable, it may be, yet
wholly natural, since Mistress Mary was insisting:

"There's no use talkin', Timothy Dow