Her grotto had been a beautiful place—a wood-nymph’s bower, a fairy queen’s palace; but it had no windows, and its lofty skylight, though it illuminated the whole place, afforded no outlook whatever, and gave but a limited glimpse of the sky. When she had sat there and sewed her vision had been bounded by the walls of solid rock, which had given a prison aspect to her dwelling place. Now all this was changed. She sat sewing at a cheerful, open, white-curtained window, letting her eyes rove, whenever she raised her head, freely over land and sea and sky, with a buoyant sense of liberty and—a touching sense of gratitude also! Who was it that had changed her life so happily? Nay, who had saved, sustained and blessed her life, ever since she had been cast, a helpless creature, on this desert island? Justin Rosenthal, a man, one of the common enemy, one of the hated sex, one of the despots, the oppressors and despoilers of women! They spent their first evening in the new house, around the center-table in the parlor. The lamp was not lighted; for the windows were open, and the full moon was shining so splendidly as to make all the land and sea and the sky almost as bright as noonday—quite as bright as a London day. It was a new delight to Britomarte, on rising in the morning, to be able to throw open a window shutter and gaze out upon the broad expanse of sea and sky; another to eat breakfast in a large parlor, with the cheerful light of the morning sun shining in at the eastern windows; and still another to change from room to room and enjoy the aspect of each in turn. “Sure this is house-kaping at lingth, ma’am, isn’t it? It’s having a home iv our own, ‘if it’s iver so homely,’ as the song says. It’s domestic happiness intirely, so it is,” said Judith, as she was assisting Miss Conyers to set the bedchambers in order. “We have to thank Heaven and Mr. Rosenthal for it all, Judith.” “Sure, and so I do, ma’am. And day and night I wish myself was a praist so I could marry you two togither, an’ faix it’s the only thing I’m unable to do for ye.” After breakfast every day Justin went out to his outdoor work. He set out a large number of young fruit trees that he had raised from the seed—plum, peach and apricot trees. Their cultivation upon this new soil, in this new climate, was an experiment which only time could decide to be a success or a failure. His next work was to gather in and store the late crops of grain. By the time this was done the wet season set in with great severity; and the castaways were confined for the most part to indoor occupations. But they were not idle.