her own speed created.

"Katie," said the mother, turning to her second daughter, "don't rumple
him up quite so violently. You must remember that he is a tiny fellow
yet, and can't stand such rough treatment."

"But he likes it, ma," objected Katie, with a look of glee, although she
obeyed the order at once. "Don't you, Morley?"

Little Morley stopped in the middle of an ecstatic laugh, scrambled upon
his fat legs and staggered towards his mother, with his fists doubled,
as if to take summary vengeance on her for having stopped the fun.

"Oh, baby boy; my little Morley, what a wild fellow you are!" cried the
mother, catching up her child and tossing him in the air.

The old man had approached near enough to overhear the words and
recognise the face. Tears sprang to his eyes and ran down his cheeks,
as he fell forward on the path with his face in the dust.

At the same moment the lighthouse-keeper issued from the door of the
building. Running towards the old man, he and his wife quickly raised
him and loosened his neckcloth. His face had been slightly cut by the
fall. Blood and dust besmeared it and soiled his white locks.

"Poor old man!" said the keeper, as his mate, the assistant
light-keeper, joined him. "Lend a hand, Billy, to carry him in. He
ain't very heavy."

The assistant--a strapping young fellow, with a powerful, well-made
frame, sparkling eyes and a handsome face, on which at that moment there
was a look of intense pity--assisted his comrade to raise the old man.
They carried him with tender care into the lighthouse and laid him on a
couch which at that time, owing to lack of room in the building,
happened to be little Nora's bed.

For a few moments he lay apparently in a state of insensibility, while
the mother of the family brought a basin of water and began carefully to
remove the blood and dust which rendered his face unrecognisable. The
first touch of the cold sponge caused him to open his eyes and gaze
earnestly in the woman's face--so earnestly that she was constrained to
pause and return the gaze inquiringly.

"You seem to know me," she said.

The old man made no reply, but, slowly clasping his hands and closing
his eyes, exclaimed "Thank God!" fervently.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let us glance, now, at a few more of the changes which had been wrought
in the condition and circumstances of several of the actors in this tale
by t