One day in spring a sturdy boy, in dusty garments and stick in hand, knocked at the door of the fisherman's cottage.
It was Toddie herself who opened it.
The stranger was Frank, but so changed she hardly knew him.
But she dragged him in, and seated him by the fire, as in the dear old days, and sat down on a stool beside him.
Tip, the dachshund, was rejoiced to see the boy again, and made frantic efforts to jump on his knee. But, alas! he was far too long for that, so he had to content himself with licking Frank's hand, then resting his brown-tan cheek lovingly against it.
When Toddie saw this, something seemed to come over her all at once, and she burst into tears.
Frank was doing his best to console her when Eppie herself entered, and Frank rose to greet her.
She took both his hands in hers, and the tears rose even to her honest eyes.
"My poor, dear laddie," she said, "sae wan and sae woebegone. But cheer up, cheer up! Believe me, Frank, it may be all for the best."
By-and-by Eean himself came in, and even Bunko, and nobody that night had a thought for himself or herself. Every effort was made towards making Frank feel happy and at home. These efforts were not unsuccessful. Some natures are wonderfully resilient, and Frank's was one of these. He was a brave, open-hearted boy; and although no one could have felt much more keenly than he did his altered position in life, and the amount of unhappiness his fate had brought on him, still he was by no means inclined to let down his heart, as anyone might have gathered from a remark he made that evening. Tip had knocked down the boy's stick.