t up with the glow of enthusiasm, of
the stranger, for a beacon light; they came up with him, who called to
Harry to join them.

"What is your name, my son?"

"Harry Grosvenor, sir," answered the boy, drawing himself up to his full
height.

"And what have you here?" added he. "I suppose you came along as
supercargo; pray tell me with what are you freighted?"

"The Sea-flower is my only freight, sir."

"And God grant that you may always find as valuable! but tell me, is
this angelic child your sister?"

"Yes, sir, my sister, and we all love her very much; we could not be
without her, for we might forget to thank our Father for his kindness
to us, if we had no Sea-flower to remind us of Heaven."

"So young, and can appreciate so rare a gift," mused the gentleman;
"childhood, indeed, is the first to discover purity;" and the eye of the
stranger grew moist, and the melancholy smile which sat upon his
countenance gave place to the shadows of grief. "What is the child's
name?" asked he.

"We call her Sea-flower, sir."

"'Tis a peculiar, sweet name; but has she no other?"

"We have always called her by that name. Mother says she came to us from
God, and he loves the little flowers; he smiles upon each one, as it
holds up its little head, all shining with pearly tears wept by the
stars. But do you not love my sister? I did not think she could make
you sad."

"Yes, yes, my son; take good care of her, be a true brother to her,
ever. Many long years have passed since my own little Natalie played in
my arms, but they are gone;" and the kind gentleman gathered his
sketching instruments to depart.

That night, as Mrs. Grosvenor talked with her children, as was her wont,
of the good Father who loves us all, Harry related the interview with
the stranger gentleman; and in the prayer which followed he was not
forgotten. The Sea-flower folded her tiny hands meekly, while from the
windows of her soul went up the love she could not speak. As that
faithful mother sat meditating upon the story of Harry in regard to the
stranger, which she had related to her husband, Captain Grosvenor
remarked,--"It is just one year to-day when our dear child came to us,
being also my birthday; but instead of adding a year to my life, it
seems to me old Father time has made a mistake, and made a deduction of
a year. Just one year to-day, and she is the Sea-flower still. Yes, she
will ever be the Sea-flower to us; yet I suppose she must have a n