And well she kept her silent promise. No princess ever had an instructress at once so accomplished, so competent and zealous as this little island rustic possessed in her gifted and devoted mother. And from this day also, whether for her beloved mother’s sake, she shook off her sadness, or whether a happy reaction had taken place, Margaret did not appear to suffer in the least degree from the loneliness so dreaded for her. As other more favored children learn to walk by nature, so this lonely island maiden learned to ride on horseback, to row a skiff, and to work a little sailboat. And daily, after her lessons were over, she would, in her free, unquestioned way, run down to the beach, get into her little boat and row around the isle, or if the wind was fresh and not too high plant her slender mast and hoist her sail. Ralph Houston was at this time at Harvard University, but Franky was at home, preparing for college, under the direction of the Rev. Mr. Wellworth, whom he attended in his library three times a week. And Franky came often to the island to see his young neighbor, Margaret, and in his affectionate zeal would have been Grace, Clare, the city of Richmond and himself, all in one, for her sweet sake. While at home in the evenings, he carved “cornelian” rings and bodkins out of broken tortoiseshell combs, and “ivory” needle-cases and paper-folders out of boiled mutton bones for her; and she wore and used them because they were Franky’s work. And if he had pocket money, as he generally had, for he was a great favorite with his stepmother, who liberally supplied him, he was sure to send it by the first opportunity to the city to buy the newest book, picture or music for Margaret, who, whether the present were good, bad or indifferent of its kind, read the book, framed the picture or learned the music, because it was the gift of Franky. As time passed Mr. Houston observed this growing friendship with delight, and prophesied the future union of the youth and maiden--a provision at which Franky would blush scarlet between boyish shame and joy. Other interested parties took cognizance of this state of affairs. Mr. Helmstedt, whenever he gave himself the trouble to think of his daughter’s future, viewed this prospect without dissatisfaction, which was, perhaps, the highest degree of approbation of which his sombre nature was now capable. And Mrs. Helmstedt also, conscious of the precarious hold of her feverish spirit upon her frail body, found great comfort in the contemplation of Franky’s clear mind and affectionate heart, cheerful temper and strong attachment to her child. But if Margaret loved Franky it was “at second best,” and as much for the sake of one far away as for his own. There is no accounting for the waywardness of the passions and affections, and if the truth must here be told, Margaret in her secret heart better liked the dark, earnest, thoughtful man, Ralph, who was twelve years