of another temperament Elinor could easily have passed moments
of depression. For a girl in her position there certainly was abundant
material for regret. But the courage and the unwavering cheerfulness of
Pats were contagious. He and melancholy were never partners. A
discovery, however, was made one morning on the little beach that, for a
moment at least, filled Elinor with misgivings.

Midway along this beach they found a bucket, rolling about on the sand,
driven here and there by the incoming waves.

"That is worth saving," and Pats, watching his opportunity, followed up
a receding breaker and procured the prize. It resembled a fire-bucket;
and there were white letters around the centre. Elinor ran up and stood
beside him, and, as he held it aloft, turning it slowly about to follow
the words, both read aloud:

"Of--the--North--Maid."

"Maid of the North!" exclaimed Elinor, grasping Pats by the arm. "Oh, I
hope nothing has happened to her!"

"Probably not. More likely some sailor lost it overboard." Then, looking
up and down the beach, "There is no wreckage of any kind. If she had
blown up or struck a rock there would surely be something more than one
water-bucket to come ashore and tell us. I guess she is all right."

"But how exciting! It seems like meeting an old friend."

She held it in her own hands. "Poor thing! You did look so melancholy
swashing about on this lonely beach."

When they returned to the house they carried the bucket with them.

Pats had his own misgivings, however. One or two other objects he had
discerned floating on the water farther out, too far away to distinguish
what they were. And the fact that no search had been made for Elinor was
in itself disquieting. But as his chief aim at present was to bring
contentment to the girl beside him, he carefully refrained from any
betrayal of these doubts. Nothing else, however, that might cause alarm
was washed ashore.

And Pats, all this time, was growing fat. His increasing plumpness was
perceptible from day to day, and it proved a constant source of mirth to
his companion. One morning he appeared in a pair of checkered trousers
purchased in South Africa during his skeleton period. They seemed on the
verge of exploding from the outward pressure of the legs within. Elinor
made no effort to suppress her merriment. She called him "Fatsy." And to
the dog, who regarded the trousers with his usual solemnity, she
remarked:

"O, Solomon!