Uncle Terry and Albert had just seated themselves on the point that evening when Telly came out with a thick gray shawl and wrapped it around her father's shoulders. "It's a little chilly to-night," she said, "and I think you need it." Then turning to Albert she added, "Wouldn't you like one too, Mr. Page?" He didn't in the least need any protection, but that made no difference. "I would, thank you," he answered, "if you have another to spare." He would have answered yes if she had asked him to put on woollen mittens. She returned to the house and came back, this time bearing a white zephyr wrap, and handed it to Albert. "I will bid you good-night, now," she said, "for I presume you will sit here long after bed-time." Uncle Terry's eyes followed her back to the house, and then he turned to his guest. "I s'pose ye'd rather be talking to Telly than me, out here in the moonlight," he said bluntly, "now that ye've got a little acquainted. It's the way o' young folks." "I've had a very pleasant visit with your daughter this afternoon," responded Albert; "she was good enough to go with me to where I got left yesterday. I wanted to finish the sketch I began there." Uncle Terry made no answer, but sat puffing away at one of the cigars Albert had given him. "We don't git cigars like this here," he said at last, "an' they must cost a lot o' money." Albert made no reply, but waited quietly for the revelation he felt was coming. "Mr. Page," said Uncle Terry at last, "I've worried a good deal since last night 'bout what you told me, an' I've made up my mind to tell ye the hull story an' trust ye with what no one else knows. To begin with, it's 'bout twenty years ago last March when thar war a vessel got a-foul o' a ledge jest off'n the pint here in a snow-storm, an' all hands went down; that is, all but a little yearlin' baby that cum ashore tied up 'tween two feather-beds. I fished her out o' the surf, an' Lissy an' me has taken care on her ever since, an' to-day she's worth a thousand times more'n she cost. How much she thinks o' me I'll let ye jedge by the way she thought 'bout my comfort to-night. There was a few trinkets came ashore with her--picturs o' her father an' mother, we knew, an' a locket an' ring and some other things, so we knowed her name and whar she cum from. Since then we have never heard a word from no one regardin' her people, or whether any was livin', till last winter I cum across a notice in a paper sayin' information was wanted 'bout an heir to an estate in Sweden, and tellin' facts that made me sure Telly was the one wanted. The notice was signed by that lawyer, Frye, that I asked ye 'bout, an' I went to see him. He wanted proofs an' all that, an' I gave 'em to him, an' wussen that, he wanted money, an' I gave that to him. He's kept askin' fer money ever since, an' I, like a dum fool, kept sendin' it, in hopes, if Telly had anything comin', she'd git her dues.