bright with excitement, a tear on her cheek, and her red lips quivering.

One little hand nervously clutched her handkerchief, while the other
grasped the handles of her very new suitcase.

She had wound her pretty arms tightly around her mother's neck, kissed
her, oh, so many times, and then, lest her courage fail her, had turned
and fled from the house, where on the beach, she clung to her father's
hand, and silently walked toward the station.

She felt that if she tried to talk she would surely cry, but why was
the sturdy captain so silent? Did he feel, as his little daughter did,
that safety lay in silence? Did he fear to speak lest the tears might
come? It had been decided that Sprite should accept Mr. Sherwood's
invitation, and spend the Winter at Avondale, enjoying the early Winter
months at Sherwood Hall, and the latter part of the season as the guest
of Uncle John Atherton and his little niece, Rose.

She had enjoyed the planning of her modest little wardrobe, she had
talked of the delight of having Rose and Princess Polly for her
playmates all Winter.

She had promised to be a faithful little pupil at school, and she had
dreamed all night, and talked all day of the delightful Winter that
she was to enjoy.

Now, seated in the car, ready to take her first journey from home, she
looked about her with frightened eyes. Captain Seaford stood beside
her. He had bought a box of candy, and a book, trusting that they might
help to cheer her.