"I wish there were thousands like her," he answered. "Ever since I can remember it has been plain to me that what she most desired for all her children was that they might be real, true, earnest Christians. Vi, if we are not all that, we can never lay the blame at our mother's door."
"Nor papa's either," Violet said with a sigh and a tear to his memory, "for he was just as careful as she is to train us up for God and heaven."
"Yes," Edward assented with emotion. "O Vi, if I could but be the man he was!"
They went into the house. In the little parlor Amy Fletcher reclined on a sofa gazing out through the open door upon the sea.
"I have had my first sight of old ocean to-day," she said, glancing up at them as they came in, "and oh how beautiful it is! how delicious this breeze coming from it! it surely must bring health and strength to any one who is not very ill indeed!"
"I hope it will to you," Violet said, sitting down by her side.
"I hope so," she returned with a cheerful look and smile, "for the doctors tell me I have no organic disease, and that nothing is more likely to build me up than sea air and sea-bathing."
Amy was small and fragile in appearance, but not painfully thin; she had large dark grey eyes, brown hair, a sweet patient expression, a clear complexion, and though usually rather too pale and quiet, when excited or greatly interested the color would come and go on her cheek, her eyes shine, and her whole face light up in a way that made her decidedly pretty.
She was weary now with her journey and a visit to the beach, though she had only walked to a summer house near by and sat there while the rest strolled about.
Merry sounds of jest and laughter were coming from the kitchen.