Before she could chase away the tears, the train had started, she saw
through her tear-dimmed lashes a blurred landscape, and then,--why she
was actually riding away from her seashore home! For a time she sat,
as if in a dream, and then the conductor came along. Little Sprite
looked up into his pleasant face, and wondered why he paused.

"Let me see your ticket, my dear," he said, and she blushed at her
forgetfulness, and drew it from her pocket.

He punched it, and then, in a gentle, fatherly way, he said:

"Your father, Captain Seaford, is a firm friend of mine. He asked me
to look out for you, and see that you got off the train at Avondale.
He said this was your first bit of travelling alone, but that your
friends would be waiting for you when you arrived."

"They will, oh, they will!" she eagerly cried, "and thinking of that
makes me feel happier. I've never been away alone before."

"I've a little girl at home who is much braver to talk about going
away from home, than she is when the time comes to start. But don't
worry, little Miss Seaford," he said, with a laugh, "for I'll be your
friend all the way to Avondale."

"Oh, thank you," she said, and he thought that he had never seen a
lovelier face. She opened the new book, hoping that the story and the
pictures might make her forget her homesickness. It was evident that
she considered a good book a good friend.

The story held her attention, the picture charmed her, and the box of