Although her first feeling was disappointment, Daph shed tears of joy as she clasped the hand of the honest captain; her tears, however, brightened into smiles as she saw the approving look the captain bestowed on her pets, as he caught them in his arms. Charlie struggled and fought to be free, shouting, “I like you, sir, but you need not squeeze me so, and rub me with your rough whiskers.” Charlie got another hug for an answer, while Louise said, “Who is it, Daph? It cannot be my father!” “No! no! darling!” said the captain, quickly, and he dashed the tears from his eyes, and was sobered in an instant. Mrs. Ray looked on with astonishment and curiosity, at the cordial meeting between her old acquaintance and her lodgers. Captain Jones had known Mrs. Ray slightly in her better days, and he now turned to her, and inquired kindly after her welfare. As usual, she had a series of grievances to relate, but she forbore speaking slightingly of Mary, who had modestly retired into the background. The little girl was somewhat astonished when the captain came towards her, and gave her a hearty greeting, as the child of his old mess-mate, and seemed to think her well worth speaking to, though “only a girl.” The whole party sat down together, and time passed rapidly on, while the captain sat, with the children in his arms, and heard Daph’s account of her various trials and adventures since they parted. Mrs. Ray listened with eager curiosity, but she could gather little from Daph’s words that she did not already know. At length, Captain Jones said, with a great effort, “Daph, I have something to say to you, which is not fit for the children’s ears,” and he gave at the same time an expressive glance towards Mrs. Ray. The widow seized Mary by the hand, and flounced indignantly out of the room, saying, “I am sure we have too much to do to stay here, where we are not wanted. No good comes of secrets, that ever I heard of!” “Come children, come with Mary,” said the girl, apparently unconscious of her mother’s indignant manner. The children followed somewhat reluctantly, and Daph and the captain were left alone together. Since the moment of her landing, Daph had had no one to whom she might speak of the dark fears for her master and mistress, that at times preyed upon her; to her own strange departure she had never alluded. She had met questionings with dignified silence, and had patiently endured insinuations, which, but for her clear conscience, would have driven her to frenzy. Now, she felt that she was to hear some important news, and her trembling knees refused to support her. Anxious and agitated, she sank on her low bench, and fixed her eyes eagerly on the captain.