'Can't you and I come as he came, grandfather?' I said. 'Can't we come
and build on the Rock, too?'

'Well,' said my grandfather, 'I wish we could, my lad. I begin to see
what he meant, and what the old gentleman meant too. He said, "You're on
the sand, my friend; you're on the sand, and it won't stand the storm;
no, it won't stand the storm!" I've just had those words in my ears all
the time we were sitting over there by Mrs. Millar. But, dear me, I
don't know how to get on the Rock; I don't indeed.'

The whole of the next week poor Mrs. Millar lay between life and death.
At first the doctor gave no hope whatever of her recovery; but after a
time she grew a little better, and he began to speak more
encouragingly. I spent my time with the poor children, and hardly left
them a moment, doing all I could to keep them quietly happy, that they
might not disturb their mother.

One sorrowful day only, my grandfather and I were absent for several
hours from the lighthouse; for we went ashore to follow poor Jem Millar
to the grave. His poor wife was unconscious, and knew nothing of what
was going on.

When, after some weeks, the fever left her, she was still very weak and
unfit for work. But there was much to be done, and she had no time to
sit still, for a new man had been appointed to take her husband's place;
and he was to come into the house at the beginning of the month.

We felt very dull and sad the day that the Millars went away. We went
down to the pier with them, and saw them on board the steamer--Mrs.