hension, as if a shadow of coming evil was thrown forward by the
undefined future. Yet why should she fear, who hated no one, but poured
her love abroad upon all? Ah, why? is it not upon the gentle and the
kind that the hailstones of destiny beat oftenest, as if they felt that
here, and not upon the rugged and the stern, their pitiless strength
should succeed? From time to time, Bittra looked to the door, or paused
in her work, to listen for a footstep. At last it came,--her father's
heavy step, as he strode across the corridor, and the doors slammed
behind him.

"All alone, mignonne," he said. "A penny, nay, a pound for your
thoughts."

"Agreed, father," she said eagerly, "I want a pound rather badly just
now."

"Some new idiot discovered in the hills," he said, "or some disreputable
tramp with a good imagination. You shall have it, Bittra," he said,
coming over, and gently stroking her hair. He looked down fondly upon
her, and said, suddenly changing his voice:--

"I am hungry as a hawk, Bittra; would you get me some tea?"

She rose to meet his wishes, and as her tall, beautiful figure passed
from the room, he said to himself:--

"God, how like her mother!"

He threw himself on a sofa, and looked out over the moor. But he saw--

A long, low island, with the plumes of palms crowning the hill; and
beneath, the white waves creeping up the coral crests to mingle with the
lazy waters of the lagoon. A cottage, shaded with palms, close down by
the beach, with magnolias clustering round the windows, and orchids far
back in the moist shades, and creeping vines tangled in and out amongst
the palms, and a strong sun, going down in an orange and crimson sky,
and a cool, welcome breeze from the sea, that just lifts up the fans of
the palms, and a stray curl on the forehead of a girl--for she was
hardly more than a girl--who sat out on the tiny lawn, and at her feet
the young naval officer, who had carried off his bride at the last
season at the Castle and brought her here under southern skies, and
believed that this was the world--and heaven. His ship lay at anchor on
the eastern side; and here they were stationed for weeks, it may be for
months, away from civilization and all its nuisances, and alone with
Nature and the children of Nature, who came by degrees to love at least
the gentle lady who was so kind to them and their brown babies. Alas for
human happiness! One short year, and he was a widower, with the charge
of