She started, her face flushed, and she was about to draw back; then she stopped, and advancing held out her hand.
"It cannot be helped," she said; "anyway, you have seen me before, and I suppose it doesn't matter.

I'm a sailor boy, and have to own up to it.

I did hope you would think of me as a young lady, but we are all so happy now that that doesn't matter.

Oh, father!" she cried, "it can't be; we are not fit to be saved; we must perish here in our wretched rags." "Not so," cried Dickory, with a bow; "I've already bought you a gown, and I hope it is pink." As they all hurried away, the tale of the hoped-for clothes was told; and although Mrs.Mander wondered how gowns were to be made while a merchantman waited, she said nothing of her doubts, and they all ran gleefully.

Lucilla and Dickory being the fleetest led the others, and Dickory said: "Now that I have seen you thus, I shall be almost sorry if that ship can furnish you with common clothes, what you wear becomes you so." "Oho!" cried Lucilla, "that's fine flattery, sir; but I am glad you said it, for that speech has made me feel more like a woman than I have felt since I first put on this sailor's toggery." In the afternoon the boat returned, Mander and Dickory watching on the beach.