Reaching the house, the old man mounted the rude steps which led to
the door, and entered the room which was kitchen, dining, and drawing
room at Storm Castle, as the lighthouse was called by its inhabitants.
The room was light and cheerful, with a pleasant little fire crackling
sociably on the hearth. The table was laid with a clean white cloth,
the kettle was singing on the hob, and a little covered saucepan was
simmering with an agreeable and suggestive sound; but no one was to
be seen. Alarmed, he hardly knew why, at the silence and solitude,
Captain January set his parcels down on the table, and going to the
foot of the narrow stone staircase which wound upward beside the
chimney, called, "Star! Star Bright, where are you? Is anything
wrong?"

"No, Daddy Captain!" answered a clear, childish voice from above;
"I'm coming in a minute. Be patient, Daddy dear!"

With a sigh of relief, Captain January retired to the fireplace, and
sitting down in a huge high-backed armchair, began leisurely pulling
off his great boots. One was already off and in his hand, when a
slight noise made him look up. He started violently, and then, leaning
back in his chair, gazed in silent amazement at the vision before
him.

On the stone stairway, and slowly descending, with steps that were
meant to be stately (and which might have been so, had not the stairs
been so steep, and the little legs so short) was the figure of a
child: a little girl about ten years old, with a face of almost
startling beauty. Her hair floated like a cloud of pale gold about
her shoulders; her eyes were blue, not light and keen, like the old