The house was composed of three small rooms with a lean-to, where of late years Billy had slept. From the middle room, which was the living room, a ladder, set against the wall, led to the loft overhead. The man slowly climbed upward, and Janet went after. The space above was hardly high enough for an upright position, so man and girl sat down upon the floor, and it happened that a locked chest stood between them. "Janet, ye ain't never seen these things, have ye?" "No, Cap'n Billy." The mocking laugh was gone from the face. "Ye ain't got no sense of curiosity 'bout anythin', Janet--not even yer mother. Most girls would have asked questions." This seemed like a rebuke, and Janet kept silent. "Ain't ye got no curious feelin' 'bout yer mother?" "Cap'n Billy, you haven't ever let me miss anything in all my life. I s'pose that's why I haven't asked. I never knew her, did I, Cap'n Billy? You made up for everything." This unnerved Billy. "That's logic," he nodded, "an' it's good-heartedness, as well; but, Janet, I'm goin' to tell ye somewhat of yer mother." He took a key from his pocket, unlocked the chest and raised the lid. "Them things is hers!" he said reverently. "Little frocks--" Three he laid out upon the floor. Cheap, rather gaudy they were, but of cut and fashion unknown to the beach-bred girl. "And little under-thin's, an' a hat, an' sacque; shoes--just look at them, Janet! Little feet they covered, but such willin' little feet, always a-trottin' 'bout till the very last, so turrible afraid they wouldn't be grateful enough. Lord! but that was what she said." The pitiful store of woman's clothing lay near Janet, but she made no motion to touch it. "And this is her!" Captain Billy took a photograph from the bottom of the chest, unwrapped it from its covering of tissue paper, and handed it to the quiet girl opposite. "This is her, an' as like as life! The same little hat on, what she set such store by! I ain't had the heart t' show ye this before." Janet seized the card eagerly. The light from a small window in the roof fell full upon it. "Oh!" she breathed, "she was--why, Cap'n Billy, she was more than pretty! I think I should have felt her more if I had seen this." "Maybe, Janet." "Am--am I like her?" "Like as not, if ye was whiter an' spindlin'er, there'd be a likeness." An uneasiness struggled in Billy's inner consciousness as he viewed the girl. "Ye're more wild-like," he added. "I wish I had asked a lot about her," Janet whispered, and there was a mist in her eyes; "I have been careless just because I've been happy. It seems as if we had sort of pushed her away, and kept her still." "Well, it's her turn t' speak now, girl, an' that's what I've been steerin' round t'. Ye're hers an'--" "And yours, Cap'n Billy, even if you have taught me to say Captain, instead of Father."