"Be comforted, my darlings," he went on, holding them close to his heart; "we haven't lost our Maxie by any means; and though I left him feeling a trifle homesick and forlorn, he will get over that in a day or two I know, and greatly enjoy the business of preparing himself for the life work he has freely chosen." "But, oh, papa, how he will miss our lovely home, and you, and all of us!" sobbed Gracie, hiding her tear-stained face on her father's shoulder.
"Not as you would, my darling," he replied, holding her close and caressing her with great tenderness.

"Boys are different from girls, and I think our dear Maxie will soon feel very happy there among his mates, though he will, I am sure, never cease to love his father, sisters, Mamma Vi, baby brother, and his home with them all." "Papa, I'm thinking how he'll miss the pleasant evenings at home--the good talks with you," sobbed the little girl.
"Yes, darling, but I will tell you what we will do to partly, at least, make up that loss to our dear boy." "What, papa ?" she asked, lifting her head and looking up into his face, with her own brightening a little.
"Suppose we each keep a journal or diary, telling everything that goes on each day at home, and now and then send them to Maxie; so that he will know all that we are doing ?" "Oh, what a good thought, papa!" exclaimed Lulu, giving him a vigorous hug and kiss.

"And Maxie will write us nice, interesting letters; and some day he'll come home for a visit and have ever so much to tell us." "Yes," her father said, "and I think we will have interesting letters from him in the meantime." "And perhaps I'll learn to like writing letters, when it's just to please Maxie and comfort him," said Grace, wiping away her tears and trying to smile.
"I hope so, darling," her father replied, bestowing another kiss upon the sweet little tear-stained face.

"But now, my dears," he added, "put on your hats; it is time to go back to the _Dolphin_." They hastened to obey, and he led them to the parlor, where they found the rest of the party ready to accompany them on board the yacht.
The sun was setting as they reached the _Dolphin's_ deck and they found a luxurious repast ready for them to partake of by the time outdoor garments could be laid aside and wind-tossed hair restored to order.
The captain missed the bright face of his first-born at the table, but, exerting himself for the entertainment of the others, seemed even more than usually cheery and genial, now and then indulging in some innocent jest that made his little girls laugh in spite of themselves, and at length almost forget, for the moment, their parting from Max, and their grief over the thought that he would no longer share their lessons or their sports, and would be at home only after what, in the prospect, seemed to them a long, long time; and then but for a little while.
On leaving the table all gathered upon deck.

There was no wind, but the yacht had a steam engine and used her sails only on occasions when they could be of service.