a window where I can see the boy's lamp when he's built it."

Humility brought in the table and tea-things, and set them out by the
invalid's bed. She went out into the kitchen to look to the kettle.
In that pause Honoria found it difficult to meet Mrs. Venning's eyes;
but the old lady was wise enough to leave grudges to others. It was
enough, in the time left to her, to accept what happened and leave
the responsibility to Providence.

Honoria, replying but scarcely listening to her talk, heard a
footfall at the outer door--Taffy's footfall; then the click of a
latch and Humility's voice saying, "There's a visitor inside; come to
take tea with you."

"A visitor?" He was standing in the doorway. "_You?_" He blushed in
his surprise.

Honoria rose. "If I may," she said, and wondered if she might hold
out a hand.

But he held out his, quite frankly, and laughed. "Why, of course.
They will be lighting up in half an hour. We must make haste."

Once or twice during tea he stole a glance from Honoria to his
mother; and each time fondly believed that it passed undetected. His
talk was all about the light-house and the preparations there, and he
rattled on in the highest spirits. Two of the women knew, and the
third guessed, that this chatter was with him unwonted.

At length he too seemed to be struck by this. "But what nonsense I'm
talking!" he protested, breaking off midway in a sentence and
blushing again. "I can't help it, though. I'm feeling just as big
as the light-house to-night, with my head wound up and turning round
like the lantern!"

"And your wit occulting," suggested Honoria, in her old light manner.
"What is it?--three flashes to the minute?"

He laughed and hurried them from the tea-table. Mrs. Venning bade
them a merry good-bye as they took leave of her.

"Come along, mother."

But Humility had changed her mind. "No," said she. "I'll wait in
the doorway. I can just see the lantern from the garden gate, you
know. You two can wait by the old light-house, and call to me when
the time comes."

She watched them from the doorway as they took the path toward the
cliff, toward the last ray of sunset fading across the dusk of the
sea. The evening was warm, and she sat bareheaded with her lace-work
on her knee; but presently she put it down.

"I must be taking to spectacles soon," she said to herself. "My eyes
are not what they used to be."

Taffy and Honoria reached the old light-