When all was ready Marguerite walked down with her husband and daughter to the beach to see them off. As they reached the sands a pleasant object met their view. It was a fairylike boat, of elegant form, artistically painted, of a shaded gray on the outside and white, flushed with rose-color, on the inside; and bore upon its prow, in silver characters, _The Pearl Shell_. “And here is the pearl,” said Franky Houston, who had just leaped on shore, going to Margaret and taking her hand, “will you allow me to put her in it, Mr. Helmstedt?” “Certainly, Franky, since you were so kind as to come. Your dainty ‘shell’ is also somewhat cleaner and more suitable to her dress than our working-day boat.” “How do you do, Mrs. Helmstedt? Come, Margaret,” said the youth. “Stop, Franky, I must bid mamma good-by first,” replied the maiden, going up to her mother. “Sweet mamma! you will not be lonesome?” “No--no, my love, I shall go to sleep--good-evening,” said Mrs. Helmstedt, throwing over her daughter’s head and shoulders a fleecy white shawl, to protect her from the sea breeze. “Come, Margaret,” pleaded her companion. “Yes, yes, I am coming, Franky. Mamma, dearest mamma! I do so dislike to leave you alone to-night--it seems so cruel. We are all going but you. Everybody on the island, black and white, can go abroad but you. Mamma, why is it? Why do you never leave the island, dearest mamma?” inquired Margaret, fixing her earnest, tender eyes wistfully upon her mother’s face. “Because I do not will to do so, my dear; there, go and enjoy yourself, love. See, your father and Forrest are already in the other boat, and Franky is waiting to put my pearl in his shell. Good-night, sweet!” said Mrs. Helmstedt, kissing her daughter, with a smile so bright that it cheered the maiden, and sent her tripping to join her companion. The _Nereide_, containing Mr. Helmstedt and his man, had already left the shore. Franky handed Margaret into the dainty boat, that was so perfectly clean as not to endanger the spotless purity of her gala dress. When she was seated, and Franky had taken his place at the oars and pushed a little way from the shore, he said: “This boat is yours, you know, dear Margaret; my parting gift; I had it built on purpose, and painted it myself, and named it for you. ‘Margaret,’ you know, means ‘pearl,’ and this boat that carries you is a pearl shell; I colored it as near like one as I could. I should like to have the pleasure of rowing you about in it, but”--with a deep sigh--“I can’t! However, you will not want attention, Margaret, for my brother Ralph will be home, where I am sure he will stay; for they say that we are on the eve of war with England, in which case it will not be expedient for him to go to Europe--so, of course, he will stay home, and equally, of course, if he is a great Don, he will supply my place to you, Margaret! You have not answered one word that I have said to you--why, what is the matter?”