“Exactly! and a very happy pair they were.  She had no family who wanted her at home; her father had been a clergyman, I believe, and she was well born, but Sam was a fine fellow and earned his living honestly, fishing off the Banks, as half the men do here.  Well, they were very happy, had two children, and were saving up a bit, when poor Sam and two brothers were lost in one of the great storms which now and then make widows and orphans by the dozen.  It killed the wife; but Sam’s father, who kept the lighthouse here then, took the poor children and supported them for ten years.  The boy was a mere baby; the girl a fine creature, brave like her father, handsome like her mother, and with a good deal of the lady about her, though every one didn’t find it out.”

“Ahem!” cried the sharp girl, who began to understand the point of the story now, but would not spoil it, as the others seemed still in the dark, though Miss Scott was smiling, and Captain John staring hard at the old gentleman in the blue silk nightcap.

“Got a fly in your throat?” asked a neighbor; but Kate only laughed and begged pardon for interrupting.

“There’s not much more; only that affair was rather romantic, and one can’t help wondering how the children turned out.  Storms seem to have been their doom, for in the terrible one we had two winters ago, the old lighthouse keeper had a bad fall on the icy rocks, and if it had not been for the girl, the light would have gone out and more ships been lost on this dangerous point.  The keeper’s mate had gone ashore and couldn’t get back for two days, the gale raged so fiercely; but he knew Ben could get on without him, as he had the girl and boy over for a visit.  In winter they lived with a friend and went to school at the Port.  It would have been all right if Ben hadn’t broken his ribs.  But he was a stout old salt; so he told the girl what to do, and she did it, while the boy waited on the sick man.  For two days and nights that brave creature lived in the tower, that often rocked as if it would come down, while the sleet and snow dimmed the lantern, and sea-birds were beaten to death against the glass.  But the light burned steadily, and people said, ’All is well,’ as ships steered away in time, when the clear light warned them of danger, and grateful sailors blessed the hands that kept it burning faithfully.”

“I hope she got rewarded,” cried an eager voice, as the story-teller paused for breath.

“‘I only did my duty; that is reward enough,’ she said, when some of the rich men at the Port heard of it and sent her money and thanks.  She took the money, however, for Ben had to give up the place, being too lame to do the work.  He earns his living by fishing now, and puts away most of his pension for the children.  He won’t last long, and then they must take care of themselves; for the old woman is no relation, and the girl is too proud to hunt up the forgetful English friends, if they have any.  But I don’t fear for her; a brave lass like that will make her own way anywhere.”