They stood silently by the open window of the parlour and listened as the little girl's voice, low and sweet in tone, rang out clearly and softly:
"Holy Father, cheer our way
With Thy love's perpetual ray:
Grant us every closing day
Light at evening time."
"Dear child," murmured Mrs. Tiddy, tears springing involuntarily to her eyes, "it does seem hard lines that one naturally so bright and joyous should be blind! But there, God knows best, and I suppose He has denied her sight for some good reason; and she has His love to cheer her way, I'm certain."
"I think there's light in her heart," said Mr. Tiddy simply, and his wife agreed.
It was on the following morning that Peggy, who had wandered down to the beach with Wolf in attendance, met the lodgers from Higher Brimley. The old lady spoke to the little girl, and inquired if she remembered her. And, receiving an answer in the affirmative, she dismissed her maid, telling her to wait within sight, and requested Peggy to sit down by her side on an upturned boat, and talk to her for a while.
Peggy complied readily, for she was of a very sociable disposition, and commenced the conversation by informing her companion that she had recognised her voice when she had heard it on the previous day.
"I was in the post office with Mrs. Tiddy when you passed," she said, "and you were talking. We were told you had taken Mrs. Ford's rooms."
"I do not know how long I shall remain there-perhaps only a few days, perhaps longer. I suppose the daffodils are all gone now?"
"Yes," Peggy nodded regretfully; "but there are more flowers than ever in the garden, and those will not be cut. Mr. Tiddy grows them for himself and his friends; but the daffodils and narcissi, he sells."
"You are looking better than when I saw you before," observed the stranger. "I suppose you will be going home soon?"