Yes: they were both true sunbeams, these two dear little girls: sunbeams as all children may be, because they were happy; happy because they were good and generous and loving; sunbeams to one another and to all around them, shedding light and brightness wherever they passed.
“Bessie,” said Maggie, when she had done hugging and kissing her sister, “I’ve made a very surprising discovery. Do you see that little girl sitting over there? I’ve seen her before.”
“Yes,” answered Bessie. “She’s a kind of errand girl and helps the stewardess. Yesterday morning when you were so sick she brought some ice for you; but I didn’t speak to her, ’cause I felt so bad about you.”
“But, do you know who her father is, Bessie?”
“No,” said Bessie. “Who?”
“That man downstairs, the steam-clock man. Isn’t that very curious?”
“Why, yes. How did you find out, Maggie?”
“Well, Belle and Lily and I were there, while you looked at the water, and that child came and stood by us; and she looked so very wishful at our dolls, that I told her she might hold Bessie Margaret Marion a little while if she would be careful of her; and you don’t know how pleased she seemed then; and, Bessie, what do you think, the poor child never had a doll in her life, ’cept only a rag one, and she has no mother or sisters or any one but her father; and the captain lets her live with her father on board the steamer; and she tries to help the stewardess and run about; and she don’t like the sea a bit, she is so tired of being on it most all the time; and she’s just my age, only a year older; and Lily asked her if her father was a cross patch to her, and she was rather mad at that, and said no: he was good and kind as could be, and she loved him dearly. And so I told her Lily did not mean to make her mad,—only we thought perhaps she did not find him very interesting ’cause he would not talk much. But she did not seem to like that very much either: so I said, very quickly, that maybe the reason her father did not talk much was because he had so much thinking to do; and then she looked pleased again, and said yes, that was it, but he always talked enough to her. And then I told her I felt so very sorry for him, ’cause he had to walk up and down that little place, with nothing to do but to look at those old clock things; and I knew I never could be so strict with my duty, for I would be sure to laugh or talk or something.”
“And didn’t she look pleased when you said that about her father?” asked Bessie, when Maggie had come to the end of this long story.
“Oh, yes! And she said he did not like to do it, but he had to make a living,” answered Maggie.