Little Glo’ watched the boy as he turned the herring until it was done, and then put it on the blue-edged white plate and set it on the table. “Oh! isn’t this just perfectly splendid!” again exclaimed the child, as the two sat down to the primitive meal. They chatted faster than they ate—at least little Glo’ did. When it was over and the plates and knife and fork had been put back in the basket, the girl arose, very unwillingly, to depart. “I must go now,” she said; “they will all be looking for me. But, oh! I have had just such a grand time, and I am so glad we found each other! Ain’t you, David Lindsay?” “Yes, indeed!” exclaimed the boy. She laughed, kissed her hand to him, and ran off home, singing as she went. This was the first meeting between Gloria de la Vera and David Lindsay, the poor fisher lad, whom, a few years later, in her utter desperation, she asked to marry her; but many strange events were to happen before she could be driven to such despair as to cast her beautiful and blameless self, with her rank and fortune, at the feet of this humble lad, “unlearned and poor,” and lose herself in the deep dishonor of a low and loveless marriage. CHAPTER III THE GIRL’S MISSION TO THE BOY She was his star. BYRON. Gloria, singing as she went, and skipping like a kid from point to point, over the breach in the sea wall, and dancing through the old grass meadows and turnip fields—hurried on towards her home. Suddenly her song ceased, and she stood still. She saw her uncle walking alone with slow and melancholy steps, and his head bowed down upon his breast. She would have spoken to him, but he waved his hand for her to go on to the house. She looked at him wishfully, hesitatingly; but he only smiled sadly on her and repeated his gesture with more emphasis. Then she obeyed him and reluctantly went on. “That was like meeting a ghost,” she said; and she sang no more that day. She entered the house and met Sophia on her way through the hall with a pail of hot water in her hand and a look of indignation on her face. “What’s the matter, ’Phia? Has anything happened? I met uncle outside the park wall and he looked awful! awful!” said the child. “Well he mought,” replied the woman, wrathfully. “There’s been the biggest row you ebber seed in yer life, and you not here to ’vent of it.” “Was it auntie and uncle?” inquired the child, in a tone of awe. “Hi, who else? Yes, honey, it was master and mist’ess and de debbil! And you not here to carcumwent Satin!” “Oh, dear me, I’m so sorry. How did it all happen, ’Phia?”