“Oh, dear,” Nellie added as she saw that Tom was not answering, “I’ve treated you just like my cousin, kissed you many times, and----” “I hope you will kiss me many times again,” said Tom, his tones having taken on a deepness which caused the tender face of the girl to flood with color. “But I want to be a relation to you, Tom, dear,” cried the girl sharply. “And so you shall, darling,” said Tom. “I’m glad of that,” was the satisfied reply. “Now go on with the--the--fairy story, Tom.” “Then once upon a time----” And here Tom stopped. How was he going to describe that dreadful prison without telling her all about it? His pride forbade that. “Well, once upon a time,” answered Nellie impatiently. “There was once a beautiful island----” And again Tom paused. “Oh, I remember it,” cried Nellie. “It was all ivy windows, with shutters, iron shutters, and--and----” Here she rubbed her forehead and added: “A great stone wall all about it; is that what the castle was, Tom?” Biddy had ventured back. By the terrible expression upon Tom’s face she feared he would tell the whole story. “That’s it, darling, that’s it. I remember the castle myself.” Tom drew a long sigh as he had passed the only breaker safely thus far. “It was a very hard castle to get into,” ventured Nellie as if struggling for a better memory. “But a worse place to get out of,” said Biddy with a poke at Tom’s ribs. He gave her a dreadful look and he went on hastily. “There was a beautiful little girl brought to this island, and that child was you, my Helen.” Tom was leaning over the table and looking into Helen’s eyes. The startled expression hurt him much, for he feared the girl would call to her mind what kind of a castle they were living in, but without a word she put out her slender arms and drew the dark head down to her lips. “There’s a sweet kiss, Tom.” Biddy smacked her lips suspiciously, as she always had to do something. She did not want to cry, and Tom did look so solemn. “Then I lived there in that island?” asked Helen. “Yes.” “Was there anybody living there beside us?” The question was so innocent and sweet that Tom thought his heart would break, and Biddy again came to his rescue. “Anybody else? Well, I should think so. I was there half the time myself. And there were more people on that beautiful island than you’d ever expect to see in such a small island again.” Tom looked reproachfully at Biddy. “Yes,” said he slowly, “I lived there myself.” “Oh, did you now?” laughed Nellie, “and I did, too. Wasn’t it romantic?” “Very,” replied Tom, giving a dreadful look at Biddy. “What did you do there, Tom?” asked the girl. This was hard to get over, but Biddy, with her Irish wit, was not to be stumped in such a matter. “Sure, me darlint, he worked for the government.” “Oh, I’m sure that was a lovely position, for I often see the soldiers go by, and they work for the government, don’t they, Tom?”