h,
the mystery is solved, by the presence of a tiny hand, which elevates
itself above the little heap of whiteness, and a smiling baby face has
contrived to work its way into the no less smiling sunlight, the which
baby must not partake of too freely; consequently the owner of said
property appears, to alleviate the difficulty, which is done by giving
miss baby a toss into mid-air, and with a ringing laugh, not unlike
those wild bursts of merriment which were wont to be heard reverberating
through the halls of Santon Mansion.

Yes, it is Winnie's child; and she tells you, while a more thoughtful
look sits upon her countenance, that the name of the little one is
"Natalie;" although she adds, "as earnestly as I love my child, I know
there can never be another like _her_"--and pointing to a portrait,
draped in white, she presses her child more closely to her heart.

You look long and earnestly upon that countenance of the Madonna,--the
one face representing mother and child. The portrait is the property of
Clarence Delwood, he who is now known as 'the lone man of the shore;'
and while you are yet gazing upon it, he enters, and pressing his lips
to the canvas, he takes a bible from the case and reads. You
accidentally observe the fly-leaf, upon which is written,--"To the
Sea-flower, from her mother, on her second birthday;" and as he reads a
smile lights up his countenance, for it is there written,--"thou shalt
labor unto the Lord," and a more cheerful expression is his; for it is
through his ready pen that the alms chest of the poor receives its
liberal supplies.

Ere you depart, you inquire as to the fate of Mr. Sampson, learning that
through his agency the widow Grosvenor has come in possession of a
handsome fortune,--the daughter's gift to her mother,--so that now she
is enabled to make comfortable many a cheerless fireside, where poverty,
through the loss of a husband and father, as he went down to do business
on the great deep, had reigned. Honest Mr. Sampson, after so many years
spent upon the ocean, has concluded to live the remainder of his days on
shore; and in the darkest night, when the hurricane roars, and the waves
break high, the brilliant light entrusted to his care, may be seen for
many miles around, by the voyager who may be sailing in the neighborhood
of old Nantucket. Capt. Harry Grosvenor has also bade adieu to his
much-loved home on the sea; for together with Winnie's entreaties, and
the goodly amou