it
was small but 'slum'--my little Glory--why, why----"

Colonel Bonnicastle interrupted without ceremony. He had put himself out
to do an old employee a service and was vexed that his efforts were so
ungratefully received. However, he was a man who always had his way and
intended to do so now; so he remarked, as if the captain had not
objected to so sudden a removal, "The man will be here at three
precisely. Have whatever traps you value put together ready. You'll not
know yourself in your new quarters. Good-morning."

With that the visitor turned to depart but Bo'sn darted between his
feet, causing him either to step about in a peculiar fashion or crush
the dog; and, with equal want of courtesy, Glory pushed him aside to
fling herself on grandpa's neck, and to shriek to the guest, "Go 'way!
Go 'way! Don't you come back to Elbow Lane! I hate you--oh, I do hate
you!"

The great man was glad to go, nor did he notice her rudeness. His
carriage was waiting in the street outside the alley, and even his
sister Laura, who spent her days working to help the poor and who had
sent him here, could expect no more of him than he had done. Neither his
visit of yesterday nor to-day seemed appreciated by that old captain who
had once so faithfully commanded the colonel's own ship.

Miss Laura had chanced to hear of the seaman's blindness and poverty,
and promptly tried to help him by having him placed in "Sailors' Snug
Harbor," of which her brother was a trustee. Nobody had told her about
Glory, nor that the "Harbor" was the subject oftenest discussed within
the "littlest house."

But other old sailors had told the captain of it, and pictured its
delights, and once a crony had even taken him to visit it. After that,
to him and his grandchild, the asylum had seemed like a wonderful
fairyland where life was one happy holiday. When at their work, they
talked of this safe "Harbor" and the little girl's imagination endowed
the place with marvelous beauties. In all their dreaming they had still
been together, without thought of possible separation, till Colonel
Bonnicastle's sentence fell with a shock upon their ears, "_They will
never take in the child_."

CHAPTER II

After the Colonel's Visit

"Don't you go an' leave me, grandpa. Grandpa, don't you dast to go!"
wailed Glory, her arms clasped so tightly about the captain's neck that
they choked him. When he loosened them, he drew her to his knee and laid
her curly head a