are as safe as among the
daisies in our own cloister."

"Say it again--what you said about the sea," said Mary, more comforted
than if Ethel had been talking down to her.

By and by Ethel discovered that the sharpest trouble to the fond simple
girl was the deprivation of her precious photograph. It was like losing
Harry over again, to go to bed without it, though she would not for the
world seem to grudge it to her father.

Ethel found an opportunity of telling him of this distress, and it
almost made him smile. "Poor Mary," he said, "is she so fond of it? It
is rather a libel than a likeness."

"Don't say so to her, pray, papa. It is all the world to her. Three
strokes on paper would have been the same, if they had been called by
his name."

"Yes; a loving heart has eyes of its own, and she is a dear girl!"

He did not forget to restore the treasure with gratitude proportionate
to what the loan had cost Mary. With a trembling voice, she proffered
it to him for the whole day, and every day, if she might only have it at
night; and she even looked black when he did not accept the proposal.

"It is exactly like--" said she.

"It can't help being so, in a certain sense," he answered kindly, "but
after all, Mary dear, he did not pout out his chin in that way."

Mary was somewhat mortified, but she valued her photograph more than
ever, because no one else would admire it, except Daisy, whom she had
taught to regard it with unrivalled veneration.

A letter soon arrived from Captain Gordon, giving a fuller account of
the loss of his ship, and of the conduct of his officers, speaking in
the highest terms of Alan Ernescliffe, for whom he said he mourned as
for his own son, and, with scarcely less warmth, of Harry, mentioning
the high esteem all had felt for the boy, and the good effect which
the influence of his high and truthful spirit had produced on the other
youngsters, who keenly regretted him.

Captain Gordon added that the will of the late Captain Ernescliffe had
made him guardian of his sons, and that he believed poor Alan had died
intestate. He should therefore take upon himself the charge of young
Hector, and he warmly thanked Dr. May and his family for all the
kindness that the lad had received.

Though the loss of poor Hector's visits was regretted, it was, on the
whole, a comforting letter, and would give still more comfort in future
time.

Richard contrived to come home through Oxford and see Norman