young men who stood on the rocks awhile, and then asked us, with much
better manners than the people who usually came, if they could see the
lighthouse, and Kate led the way. She was dressed that day in a costume
we both frequently wore, of gray skirts and blue sailor-jacket, and her
boots were much the worse for wear. The celebrated Lancaster complexion
was rather darkened by the sun. Mrs. Kew expressed a wish to know what
questions they would ask her, and I followed after a few minutes. They
seemed to have finished asking about the lantern, and to have become
personal.

"Don't you get tired staying here?"

"No, indeed!" said Kate.

"Is that your sister down stairs?"

"No, I have no sister."

"I should think you would wish she was. Aren't you ever lonesome?"

"Everybody is, sometimes," said Kate.

"But it's such a lonesome place!" said one of the girls. "I should think
you would get work away. I live in Boston. Why, it's so awful quiet!
nothing but the water, and the wind, when it blows; and I think either
of them is worse than nothing. And only this little bit of a rocky
place! I should want to go to walk."

I heard Kate pleasantly refuse the offer of pay for her services, and
then they began to come down the steep stairs laughing and chattering