wn
by heavy storms. She felt its warmth through and through, and from the
first it did her good.

Mr. Joyce had just asked a blessing, and was proceeding to cut the
smoking beefsteak before him, when the door opened, and a tall boy,
with curly hair and a bright manly face, hurried in.

"Why, father, I didn't know you were here, or I should have been in
long ago. How are you, sir?" ending the sentence, to Eyebright's
amazement and amusement both, with a hug and a hearty kiss, which his
father as heartily returned.

"Yes; I'm at home again, and very glad and thankful to be here," said
Mr. Joyce. "Here's the new sister, Charley; you didn't see her, did
you? Eyebright, this is my son Charley."

"My son Charley," like most boys of sixteen, was shy with girls whom
he was not acquainted with. He shook hands cordially, but he said
little; only he watched Eyebright when she was not observing, and his
eyes were very friendly. He liked her face, and thought her pretty,
which was certainly very good of him, for she was looking her
worst--tired and pale, with none of her usual sparkle, and dressed in
the water-proof suit which was not at all becoming.

So here, in this secure and kindly haven, I think we may leave our
little storm-tossed girl, with the safe assurance that she will be
tenderly and wisely cared for. I know that a few among you will want
to hear more. No story was ever written so long or so conclusive, that
some child-reader did not pop up at the end with, "Oh, but just tell
us this one thing." I cannot satisfy such; still, for their benefit, I
will just hint at a remark made by Mrs. Joyce some months later. She
and Mr. Joyce were sitting on the porch, and Eyebright, who had grown
as dear as a daughter to the old lady's heart, was playing croquet
with Charley.

[Illustration: Eyebright, who had grown as dear as a daughter to the
old lady, was playing croquet with Charley.--PAGE 246.]

"It really does seem the luckiest thing that ever was, your being
shipwrecked on that island," she said. "I was almost frightened to
death when I heard about it, but if you hadn't we never should have
got hold of that child as we did, and what a pity that _would_ be? She
certainly is the nicest girl I ever saw--so sweet-tempered and loving
and helpful, I don't believe any of us could get along without her
now. How fond she and Charley seem of each other! I can't help
thinking they'll make a match of it when they grow up. It would