reathe
already."

As I spoke the mysterious vital spark in the man began to revive, and
ere long the quivering eyelids and short fitful gasps indicated that
"Uncle John," as the coxswain of the lifeboat was styled by the
household, had recovered. We gave him a teaspoonful or two of hot
coffee when he was able to swallow, and then prepared to take our leave.

I observed, while I was busy with Furby, that my niece took Mrs Gaff
aside, and appeared to be talking to her very earnestly. Lizzie was a
lovely girl. She was tall and slightly formed, with rich brown hair and
a dark clear complexion that might have been almost styled Spanish, but
for the roses which bloomed on her cheeks. I could not help admiring
the strong contrast between her and the fair face and portly figure of
worthy Mrs Gaff, who listened to what she said with an air of deep
respect.

Little Tottie had taken Lizzie's hand in both of hers, and was looking
up in her face, and the boy Billy was gazing at her with open-mouthed
admiration. I observed, too, that Kenneth Stuart was gazing at her with
such rapt attention that I had to address him several times before he
heard me!

This I was not surprised at, for I remember to this day the feelings of
pleasure with which I beheld my pretty niece, when, having lost her
father and mother, poor dear! she came to find a home under my roof, and
it was natural she should inspire admiration in a young man like
Kenneth.

My family and the Stuarts had become acquainted only a few weeks before
the events of which I am now writing, and this was the first time that
the young people had met. They were not altogether unknown to each
other, however, for Lizzie had heard of Kenneth from the fishermen, who
used to speak with interest of his horsemanship and his daring feats in
rescuing drowning people from the sea during the storms that so
frequently visited our coast, and Kenneth had heard of Lizzie, also from
the fishermen, amongst whom she was a frequent visitor, especially when
sickness entered their cots, or when the storm made their wives widows,
and their little ones fatherless.

I had set my heart on seeing these two married. My dear wife, for the
first time in her life I believe, thoroughly agreed with me in this
wish. I mention the fact with unalloyed pleasure, as being what I may
term a sunny memory, a bright spot, in a life of subdued though true
happiness. We neither of us suspected at that time what