the same storm. Do you think--why do you look at me so?" she cried,
breaking off suddenly.

But the lady put both arms round her and drew her close, close, while
her tears fell fast on the golden hair. "My darling!" she cried, "my
dear, dear little one! It _was_ the same storm; the same storm and
the same ship. Your poor mamma was my own sweet sister Helena, and
you are my niece, my little Isabel, my own, own little namesake. Will
you love me, darling? will you love your Aunt Isabel, and let her
care for you and cherish you as your sweet mother would have done?"

Star stood very still, neither returning nor repelling the lady's
caresses. She was pale, and her breath came short and quick, but
otherwise she showed no sign of agitation. Presently she put up her
hand and stroked the lady's cheek gently. "Why do you cry?" she asked,
quietly. "My poor mamma is in heaven. Don't you like her to be in
heaven? Daddy says it is much nicer than here, and he knows."

Mrs. Morton checked her tears, and smiled tenderly in the little
wondering face, "Dear child!" she said, "I do like to have her in
heaven, and I will not cry any more. But you have not told me whether
you will love me, Star. Will you try, dear? and will you let me call
you my little Isabel?"

"I will love you," replied the child, "if Daddy Captain loves you;
I will love you very much. But you must not call me that name, 'cause
I'm not _it_. I am just Star. _Does_ Daddy love you?" she asked; and
then, with a sudden note of anxiety in her voice, she exclaimed,
"Where is Daddy? Where is my Daddy Captain? Did you see him when you
came in?"