"And we thought her proud of her rank!" murmured Faith. "Do you remember that first day when we called her 'a specimen of British aristocracy,' Hope?"
"I remember when I did," was the honest answer. "It was a foolish thing to say, and I have regretted it ever since."
"We can never judge with absolute correctness," mused the Traveler, with his kindly smile.
"But papa, hasn't she any home relatives left to her—not even a sister?" asked Faith, and unconsciously her arm stole about the waist of her beloved twin.
"I hope she has," was the answer, as the rugged sailor's face turned fondly towards the two. "I have a notion that her letter will explain how, all unconsciously, my little girls have been a link between her and her dear old home."
"We?" cried both, "how wonderful! How could we? Do tell us!"
"Let the letter tell," said the captain, and the Traveler remarked in a reverent tone, as he gazed thoughtfully over the beautiful sheet of water,
"We journey side by side, and our lives meet and separate without apparent thought, or design. It is God who writes the completed story, and seals the sequel with His own 'AMEN.'"