, has she?" the father
asked, more lightly than he felt.

Ellen smiled. "That wasn't anything very serious, I guess. At any rate,
she's walking with him."

"What book is that?" he asked, of the volume she was tilting back and
forth under her hand.

She showed it. "One of his. He brought it up to amuse me, he said."

"While he was amusing himself with Lottie," thought the judge, in his
jealousy for her. "It is going the same old way. Well!" What he said
aloud was, "And is it amusing you?"

"I haven't looked at it yet," said the girl. "It's amusing enough to
watch the sea. Oh, poppa! I never thought I should care so much for it."

"And you're glad we came?"

"I don't want to think about that. I just want to know that I'm here."
She pressed his arm gently, significantly, where he sat provisionally
in the chair beside her, and he was afraid to speak lest he should scare
away the hope her words gave him.

He merely said, "Well, well!" and waited for her to speak further. But
her impulse had exhausted itself, as if her spirit were like one of
those weak forms of life which spend their strength in a quick run or
flight, and then rest to gather force for another. "Where's Boyne?" he
asked, after waiting for her to speak.

"He was here a minute ago. He's been talking with some of the deck
passengers that are going home because they couldn't get on in America.
Doesn't that seem pitiful, poppa? I always thought we had work enough
for the whole world."

"Perhaps these fellows didn't try very hard to find it," said the judge.

"Perhaps," she assented.

"I shouldn't want you to get to thinking that it's all like New York.
Remember how comfortable everybody is in Tuskingum."

"Yes," she said, sadly. "How far off Tuskingum seems!"

"Well, don't forget about it; and remember that wherever life is
simplest and purest and kindest, that is the highest civilization."

"How much like old times it seems to hear you talk that way, poppa! I
should think I was in the library at home. And I made you leave it!" she
sighed.

"Your mother was glad of any excuse. And it will do us all good, if we
take it in the right way," said the judge, with a didactic severity that
did not hide his pang from her.

"Poor poppa!" she said.

He went away, saying that he was going to look Lottie up. His simple
design was to send Lottie to her mother, so that Breckon might come back
to Ellen; but he did not own this to himself.

Lottie returned