"Waifs and strays belong to the lady of the manor," said Rosamond; "and I
have no claim to them."

"My mother would, I dare say, make over her right to you," said Godfrey.

"But that would do me no good," said Rosamond; "for here is Caroline, with
superior claims of every sort, and with that most undisputed of all the
rights of woman--beauty."

"True: but Caroline would never accept of stray hearts," said Godfrey. "See
how her lip curls with pride at the bare imagination!"

"Pride never curled Caroline's lip," cried Rosamond: "besides, pride is
very becoming to a woman. No woman can be good for much without it, can
she, mother?"

"Before you fly off, Rosamond, to my mother as to an ally, whom you are
sure I cannot resist," said Godfrey, "settle first whether you mean to
defend Caroline upon the ground of her having or not having pride."

A fresh gust of wind rose at this moment, and Rosamond listened to it
anxiously.

"Seriously, Godfrey," said she, "do you remember the ship-wrecks last
winter?"

As she spoke, Rosamond went to one of the windows, and opened the shutter.
Her sister Caroline followed, and they looked out in silence.

"I see a light to the left of the beacon," said Caroline.--"I never saw a