had been late in starting, and was so heavily laden as to make slow
progress against wind and tide. Edith's heart sank within her at the
thought of landing alone in a strange place that dismal night. It was
indeed a new experience to her. But she donned her waterproof, and the
moment the boat touched the wharf, hurried ashore, and stood under her
small umbrella, while her household gods were being hustled out into
the drenching rain. She knew the injury that must result to them
unless they could speedily be carried into the boat-house near. At
first there seemed no one to do this save Hannibal, who at once set to
work, but she soon observed a man with a lantern gathering up some
butter-tubs that the boat was landing, and she immediately appealed to
him for help.

"I'm not the dock-master," was the gruff reply.

"You are a man, are you not? and one that will not turn away from a
lady in distress. If my things stand long in this rain they will be
greatly injured."

The man thus adjured turned his lantern on the speaker, and while we
recognize the features of our acquaintance, Arden Lacey, he sees a
face on the old dock that quite startles him. If Edith had dropped
down with the rain, she could not have been more unexpected, and with
her large dark eyes flashing suddenly on him, and her appealing yet
half-indignant voice breaking in upon the waking dream with which he
was beguiling the outward misery of the night, it seemed as if one of
the characters of his fancy had suddenly become real. He who would
have passed Edith in surly unnoting indifference on the open street in
the garish light of day, now took the keenest interest in her. He had
actually been appealed to, as an ancient knight might have been, by a