BOBETTE,

They had now seated themselves on a piece of
driftwood under the shelter of an old boat.

“But,” said Bobette, “it was very nice that she
fainted, for Betsey said it was the best thing she
could do, and she’s asleep now. Look, there comes
aman!”

A stranger, an extremely tall, finely built man, with
a face almost hidden by thick, but closely cut whiskers,
was making his way toward them from the promon-
tory which separated this beach from the large harbor
beyond. He gave an amused glance at the small
grotesque rose-colored figure in its widow’s cap, sit-
ting beside the clergyman as he passed; and on
second thought he stopped and turned back.

“You don’t often have these hard gales off the
land, I fancy?” he said inquiringly. His voice had
a pleasant hearty ring.

“Not often, but this has lasted some time,” Mr.
Abert replied.

“Indeed? I hope it will blow itself out by sunset.
You’ve found a nice cosey shelter for a seat. Whose
child are you, gay little gypsy?”

Bobette surveyed him reflectively. Of this form
of address she did not approve. She replied pres-
ently, with quiet composure: ~

“Child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of
heaven.”

The stranger’s great black eyes opened wide in
astonishment; then he gave an odd little laugh.

“But how is it about the pomps and vanity of this
wicked world?” he asked slyly. “ Has not that part
of your education been a little bit neglected? Eh?”

Bobette looked slightly taken aback.

“Never mind, my dear,” the stranger went on
quickly. “ You probably follow the edifying example
of King Solomon arrayed in all his glory —I doubt
if he was as picturesque in the general effect.”

Bobette ventured no reply.

“Would you favor your humble admirer with a
kiss?” he asked, bending towards her with an amused
smile.

Bobette drew back haughtily towards her friend,
“No, I would not,” she replied.

The stranger’s smile vanished. “Is this your little
daughter?” he asked of the rector.

“No; it is the daughter of Godfrey Gillespie who
was lost at sea some years ago —before I came to
this parish,” the rector replied somewhat stiffly.

“Ah, indeed,” said the stranger.

He turned away and walked on. Bobette raised

219

her head from Mr. Abert’s shoulder where she had
hidden it, and looked after him.

“Man,” she called suddenly, “come back !”

At this imperative command, he looked round,
smiled slightly, and obeyed. Bobette stood erect,
with one little hand stretched out toward him, an
expression of resolution in her face, her cap strings
flying in the wind.

“I will kiss you,” she said gravely. -

He bent forward, and she touched her lips to the
bit of sunburned cheek above his whiskers. The
man caught her in his arms and held her for an
instant, kissing her rosy mouth, then strode away
without a word, and Bobette sat down again behind
the boat.

“He ought not to have done that,” said the clergy-
man; “he ought not to have done anything of the
sort.”

“Yes, he ought,” Bobette asserted, though her tone
was not disrespectful; “TI like that man.” Her eyes
were closely following him. Now she sprang up
again. “Look!” she cried anxiously. “Could he
be going to see my mamma?”

The rector rose.

“Well,” he said, “you remember you told me
your mamma could see no one to-day.”

This seemed to relieve Bobette’s mind, “Is it
four o'clock yet?” she asked. “Then I must ge.”

Harvey was sitting on the churchyard wall, wonder-
ing what had become of Bobette, when a voice called
breathlessly, “ Harvey, where’s our ship?”

“It’s not finished yet. I didn’t get time enough
in school to-day. Take off that silk stuff — you can’t
do anything in that.”

But the little rose-colored widow shook her head
resolutely, and seized Harvey’s hand impatiently,

Back of the beach, separated from the salt sea by
high ridges of sand dunes, lay a fresh water lake
winding for some distance inland, and boasting of a
few gnarled trees along its shores.

Harvey and Bobette were soon rowing over this
water toward a small island where stood a famous
old tree. It must once have been the giant of the
moorlands, for the first branches grew out far above
the ground, but all the upper part had been carried
away by storms. The broad top, with the bare old
arms which had once been branches around it, was
the favorite resort of the boys of the fishing hamlet,
and to reach this lofty spot, Bobette had always
longed unspeakably,