Presently Bessy looked towards the door of her cottage.
"I thought Norah would have been here afore this," she observed; "she generally manages to walk over early from the town."
"You said, if I remember right, that her mistress kindly allows her to visit home the first Monday in every month."
"Yes," replied Bessy Peele, "and it's a great pleasure it is for Norah and me to meet. She's a good girl, if ever there was one. I've had a deal more comfort in her than in Dan. She has been in her place now for more than a year, and I don't believe that Mrs. Martin has had ever a fault to find with my girl."
"What sort of a lady is Mrs. Martin?" asked Ned.
"Oh! One of your saintly ones," cried Bessy. "Always has my girl up to read the Bible to her of an evening, and sees that she goes to church once or twice every Sunday. The lady's getting a little old, and a little blind, Norah says, and can't afford to give good wages, but a respectable place like that is a stepping-stone to a better."
"Bessy," cried the sailor, "if your girl is moored in a safe good harbour, don't you be in haste to have her heave anchor and hoist sail; there's more to be thought of in a place than the mere matter of wages."
"Ah! But—" began Mrs. Peele, but she interrupted herself with an exclamation of pleasure—"Here she is!"—as a bright, pretty-looking girl of fourteen ran eagerly into the cottage.
Norah, for it was she, was warmly welcomed by her mother, and then presented to the one-armed sailor.
"Here's your uncle, my dear, whom you never have seen afore, who's been in the storms and the wars."