“You look so much like the little girl I buried at sea that I could not help kissing you.”
The child was not afraid of him, for her fairy-like fingers began playing with the grizzled whiskers, while the honest blue eyes of the old sailor grew dim and misty for the moment.
The gentleman who had brought the child to the steamer saw that this was a favorable time for him to urge his plea.
“That is the little girl whom I wished to send to Tokio by you.”
“Have you no friend or acquaintance on board in whose care you can place her?”
“I do not know a soul.”
“Is she any relative of yours?”
“She is my niece. Her father and mother are missionaries in Japan, and have been notified of her coming on this steamer.”
“If that were so, why then were not preparations made for sending her in the care of some one, instead of waiting until the last minute, and then rushing down here and making application in such an irregular manner?”