riginal Vingo had
never lost sight of "that commentful" day, as he termed it; not a day
passed but he made some allusion to "dat wee gem among de sea-weeds,"
and the Sea-flower would open wide her eyes, as from his wild laugh she
caught his broken sentences, and would wonder why the negro's words
should meet with such a response within her own bosom. The child's
dress, together with the ornaments which had been found upon her, had
been laid carefully away, reserved until she should have become familiar
with her history. But Mrs. Grosvenor, since the loss of her husband, had
weighed the question in her mind, whether she should still keep the
secret from her, for the child's mind was much beyond her years, and she
questioned whether it would be for the best to permit her to grow to
maturer years thus undeceived; but she reflected that such had been the
design of her husband, and, therefore, for the present, the subject was
dismissed from her mind.

It was the close of the third year in which Harry had been from home.
Mrs. Grosvenor had received four letters from him in that time. His
last had stated they were doing well, that he was under one of the
kindest of captains, and all that was wanting to make him perfectly
happy, was to see his dear mother, and the rest of the family once more.
Poor boy, he little thought that there was one of its members whom he
would never see again, until he had passed over that sea from which no
navigator ever returns! Harry had never written his mother of the brutal
treatment which he had received from his first captain, but he had said
that Neptune had been the means of saving his life, and that the old
fellow was getting to be quite a sailor, inasmuch as he could take a
turn on the quarter-deck with as much dignity as the captain himself. It
had been some time since Harry's last letter had been received, and now
Mrs. Grosvenor was anxiously looking for news from him, with a state of
mind prepared for receiving almost anything, so fraught with sad events
had been the last few years, when one day Vingo was seen far down the
street, coaxing his time-wearied limbs into a run, and bursting into the
room, he stood panting in the middle of the floor, grinning with
delight, and holding at arm's length a letter, which Mrs. Grosvenor
recognized as coming from her son. The Sea-flower read the letter aloud,
and when Vingo learned that massa Harry was homeward bound, he could
contain himself no longer