"Now, you must not speak as though I were not very glad my boy should make a friend of your son," said Lady St. John, in her sweet way. "I know that in after life their paths will lie widely asunder, but that is no reason why as children they should not play together, and love each other. And it will do my child good to learn, whilst he is still young, that the lives of others are not cast in quite such pleasant places. It will give him sympathy and comprehension as to the troubles of others, which it is right that all should learn. And now, Eileen--if you will let me call you by your pretty name----" "Please do, my lady. Most folks call me so. I know myself best by it." "Yes, and I have heard so much about you by that name that it comes first to my lips. So Eileen, then, I want you to sit down and talk with me a little about the future. Now that Pat's health is re-established, are you still anxious to remain upon the lighthouse? Is Lone Rock the home you would choose for yourself if you had the choice?" "Well, no, my lady, I can't say it is; though we have been very happy through the best part of a year. It's a lonely life, and a rough one, and there's no way of getting the boy taught, save what his father and I can teach him ourselves, and we should like him to be better educated than we were. But I'm afraid if we took him back where he came from, he would droop and pine again; and the pay here is good and regular, and the work not so very hard, save in rough weather. Still----" "Still, if anything should turn up that would give you a pleasant country home, and advantages for Pat, without all the drawbacks of the lonely lighthouse life, you would be willing to think about it?" "Why, yes, my lady," answered Eileen, smiling, "glad, and thankful, too. But chances like that seldom come to us poor folks; and we must not repine, for we have been very happy here."