The friendly faces on the wharf first merged themselves into a blurred mass of moving atoms, then sank into nothingness.
Polly glanced into her stateroom.

Mrs.Oliver was a good sailor, and was lying snug and warm under her blankets.

So Polly took a camp-chair just outside the door, wrapped herself in her fur cape, crowded her tam-o'-shanter tightly on, and sat there alone as the sunset glow paled in the western sky and darkness fell upon the face of the deep.
The mesa faded from sight; and then the lighthouse, where she had passed so many happy hours in her childhood.

The bright disk of flame shone clear and steady across the quiet ocean, seeming to say, _Let your light so shine! Let your light so shine! Good luck, Polly! Keep your own lamp filled and trimmed, like a wise little virgin!_ And her heart answered, "Good-by, dear light! I am leaving my little-girl days on the shore with you, and I am out on the open sea of life.

I shall know that you are shining, though I cannot see you.