The captain held the carriage door open to them like a true coachman.  “Take the back seat, please,” he commanded, after the introduction; “in these vehicles, the driver sits in front.”

The captain drove straight home, so in a very-short time they were set down at the steps.

“Go right in,” he said.  “I’ll take the horse back, and be with you shortly.”

The housekeeper met them in the hall, took wraps and hats, and directed them upstairs where the “gentleman” was waiting.  Lucy had had no opportunity to tell Chester the secret about herself, so she would have to let his father do so.  They walked quietly to the father’s room and opened the door softly.  He appeared to be sleeping in his chair, so they tip-toed into another room.

“Is he better?” asked Chester.

“Nearly well again.”  They did not seat themselves, but stood by the table.  She came close to him, smiling up into his face and said, “Everything’s all right, Chester.”

“Yes, of course,” he replied.  “You are looking so rosy and well, I forget you are an invalid.”

“Don’t think of it.  I’m going to live a long, long time, Chester—­with you.  Listen, dear, and don’t look so worried.  Things have changed again.  I don’t need to break good news gently, so I may tell you now, papa—­I mean, your father, has been telling me something I never dreamed of—­Chester, listen.  I’m not your father’s child—­only by adoption—­you’re not my brother, only of course in the brotherhood of the faith.”

“Lucy, what are you saying?”

“I am telling you the truth—­as I was told it.  He adopted me as a baby—­I was an orphan—­I am not your sister.  Chester—­I—­”

He seized her hands, and held her at arms length, while his eyes seemed to devour her.  She could not repress the tears, and when he saw them, he drew her close and kissed her.

“Lucy, not my sister, but my sweetheart again, my little wife to be—­what—­does it all mean?”

There came a loud knock at the door, and the father entered without being bidden.  He walked firmly up to them, placed a hand on each shoulder, and said: 

“My son, I have to ask your forgiveness again.  I intended to tell you about Lucy as soon as you learned the truth about yourself, but I was hindered.  Don’t think, my boy, that I would purposely cause you suffering.  What Lucy has told you is true, and I am so glad that the misunderstanding and the mixups no longer exist between us.”

The three now found seats and talked over the new situation in which they found themselves, not forgetting the part Uncle Gilbert had taken in recent events, until the strenuous voice of Captain Brown had to supplement the housekeeper’s bell, before the three would come down for luncheon.

Those were golden days to Chester, Lucy, and the Rev. Thomas Strong.  Out of restless uncertainty, doubts, fears, and heart-aching experiences they now had come to a period of peaceful certainty.  Out of straits they had come to a quiet sun-kissed harbor.