the cart, and for the
remainder of the route, be a part of the procession. Gwen, first
flatly refused to ride, but after much coaxing she finally consented,
and took her place beside Max, and so odd was the expression of her
face that Max afterward said that he could not tell whether she was
"mad or scared."

"Half mad and half scared," Gwen replied. "Mad to have to ride again
with you, and scared for fear Neddy would run away again."

The donkey behaved very well, however. He had run all he cared to for
one while, and he walked along behind the Sea King's chariot, as
quietly as if he had never once dreamed of running away.

After a while, Gwen began to be so glad that she was indeed, in the
pageant, that she looked about her, and actually smiled when some of
the other children spoke to her.

At the end of the route, a fine lunch was served in a pavilion that
looked out on the beach.

Captain Atherton had provided it, and it was heartily enjoyed by all
who had taken part in the pageant, as well their friends who were also
invited.

After the good things had been partaken of, the little guests danced
to the music furnished by an orchestra that had been playing during
the feasting, and eyes sparkled, and cheeks grew rosy with excitement.

It had been a delightful day, and for days afterward the children and
those who had been spectators, talked of the lovely pageant, that had
made its glittering way along the beach.

Captain Seaford sat just outside the door of his house, mending a net,
or rather, attempting to mend it, for his mind was not upon his work,
and from time to time he let the net lie on his knees, while he looked
out across the dancing waves as he was hoping to see a vessel appear
on the horizon.

He would sit thus for a time, and then shake his head and resume his
work.

A dancing, springing footstep brought Sprite to the door, and as soon
as she saw how eagerly he scanned the sea, she crept softly toward
him, and laying her hand upon his shoulder, peeped around into his
eyes.

"What you thinking of, Pa?" she asked quickly.

"Nothing much little girl," he said gently.

She lifted her fore-finger, nodding wisely as she spoke.

"It might not be much," she said, "but it's enough so you worry about
it. Tell me, Pa, what's vexing you."

After a moment in which both were silent, she spoke again, but with
her soft little arms about his neck.

"Was it about Ma, or me you were thinking?" she ask