"My dear child, I love to have you tell me of your little dreams and
fancies," said Mrs. Curtis affectionately, laying her hand on Madge's
head. "What made you think I didn't?"

"You looked as though what I said hurt your feelings," returned Madge,
coloring at her own frankness.

"It was only that something you said brought back a painful memory,"
explained the older woman. "I would prefer not to talk of it. Tell
me, is there nothing I can do to induce you to remain with me a little
longer?"

Her guest shook her head. "Thank you," she replied gratefully, "but I
must go back to my chums. It won't be going away, really, for I will
come to see you as often as you like, and you and Tom and Jack must
visit us on the houseboat. I want you to like the other girls _almost_
as well as you do me," smiled Madge. "Please don't like them quite as
well, though. That doesn't sound very generous, but I should like to
feel that I was first in your heart."

"You shall be, my dear." Mrs. Curtis bent and kissed the young girl's
soft cheek. "And to prove just how much I do care for you I wish to
give you something which I hope you will like and keep as a remembrance
of me. I know your uncle and aunt will be willing to let you have this
little gift when they learn of the spirit which prompted the giving of
it." Mrs. Curtis drew from a little lavender and gold bag which she
carried a square, white silk box and laid it in the astonished little
captain's hand.

"What--why--is it for me?" stammered Madge, sitting up suddenly, her