Leaving St. Augustine the Dolphin pursued her way down the Florida coast, pausing here and there for a day or two at the most attractive places, continuing on to the southernmost part of the State, around it, past Cape Sable and out into the Gulf of Mexico. Then, having accepted an invitation from Grandma Elsie to visit Viamede, they sailed on in a westerly direction.

They had pleasant weather during their sojourn in and about Florida, but as they entered the Gulf a rain storm came up and continued until they neared the port of New Orleans. That confined the women and children pretty closely to the cabin and active little Ned grew very weary of it.

"I wish I could go on deck," he sighed on the afternoon of the second day. "I'm so tired of staying down here where there's nothing to see."

As he concluded a voice that sounded like that of a boy about his own age, and seemed to come from the stairway to the deck, said, "I'm sorry for that little chap. Suppose I come down there and try to get up a bit of fun for him."

"By all means," replied the captain. "We will be happy to have you do so."

Ned straightened himself up and looked eagerly in the direction of the stairway.

"Who is it, papa?" he asked.

"Why, don't you know me?" asked the voice, this time seeming to come from the door of one of the staterooms.

"No, I don't," returned Ned. "I didn't know there was any boy on board, except myself."

"Nor did I," said a rough man's voice, "What are you doing here, you young rascal? came aboard to steal, did you?"

"Nothing but my passage, sir; and I'm not doing a bit of harm," replied the boyish voice.

"Oh, I guess I know who you are," laughed Ned. "At least I'm pretty sure you're either Cousin Ronald or brother Max."

At that a loud guffaw right at his ear made the little boy jump with an outcry, "Oh, who was that?"

"Why don't you look and see?" laughed Lucilla.

"Why, it doesn't seem to have been anybody," returned Ned, looking around this way and that. "But I'm not going to be frightened, for I just know it's one or the other of our ventriloquists. Now, good sirs, please let's have some more of it, for it's real fun."

"Not much, I should think, after you are in the secret," said Max.

"It's some, though," said Ned, "because it seems so real even when you do know—or guess—who it is that's doing it."

"Well, now, I'm glad you are so easily pleased and entertained, little fellow," said the voice from the state-room door. "Perhaps now the captain will let me pay my fare on the yacht by providing fun for his little son. That oldest one doesn't seem to need any; he gets enough talking with the ladies."

"Oh, do you, brother Max?" asked Ned, turning to him.

"Yes," laughed Max; "it's very good fun."

"Hello!" shouted a voice, apparently from the deck, "Mr. Raymond, sir, better come up here and see that we don't run foul of that big steamer—or she of us."

The captain started to his feet, but Max laughed, and said in a mirthful tone, "Never mind, father, it's a false alarm, given for Ned's amusement."

"Please don't scare anybody else to amuse me, brother Max," said Ned, with the air of one practising great self-denial.

"I don't think father was really very badly scared," laughed Lucilla; "and we may feel pretty safe with two good naval officers and a skilful crew to look out for threatening dangers and help us to avoid them."

"That's right, miss; no occasion for anxiety or alarm," said the man's rough voice that had spoken before.

"Thank you; I don't feel a particle of either," laughed Lucilla.

"And I am sure neither you nor any of us should, under the care of two such excellent and skilful seamen," added Violet in a sprightly tone.

"That's right and I reckon you may feel pretty safe—all o' you," said the man's voice.

"Of course; who's afraid?" cried the boyish voice, close at Ned's side. "Some of those old Spaniards were drowned in this gulf, but that was because they knew nothing about managing a vessel."

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Ned, "but my father does know how, and so does brother Max."

"That's a mighty good thing," said the voice, "and we needn't fear shipwreck, but can just devote ourselves to having a good time."

"So we can," said Ned. "And we do have good times here in the Dolphin. Anybody is pretty sure of good times when papa is at the head of affairs."

"Quite a complimentary speech from my little son," laughed the captain.

"And where are you going in this Dolphin?" asked the voice.

"To New Orleans, then to Berwick Bay and on through the lakes and bayous to my grandma's place—Viamede. I've been there before and it's just beautiful."

"Then I'd like to go too," said the voice. "Won't you take me along?"

"Yes, yes, indeed! whether you are Cousin Ronald or brother Max, I know grandma will make you welcome."

At that everybody laughed and his grandma said:

"Yes, indeed, they are both heartily welcome."

"And whichever you are I'm obliged to you for making this fun for me," continued Ned. "Oh, what was that!" as a loud whistle was heard seemingly close in his rear. He turned hastily about, then laughed as he perceived that there was no one there. "Was it you did that, brother Max?" he asked.

"Did it sound like my voice?" asked Max.

"As much as like any other. But oh, there's the call to supper and I suppose the fun will have to stop for this time."

"Yes, you can have the fun of eating instead," said his father, leading the way to the table.

In due time the next day they reached New Orleans, where they paused for a few days of rest and sight-seeing, then returning to their yacht, they passed out into the Gulf, up the bay into Teche Bayou and beyond, through lake and lakelet, past plain and forest, plantation and swamp. The scenery was beautiful; there were miles of smoothly shaven and velvety green lawns, shaded by magnificent oaks and magnolias; there were cool, shady dells carpeted with a rich growth of flowers; lordly villas peering through groves of orange trees, tall white sugar-houses, and long rows of cabins for the laborers. The scenes were not entirely new to anyone on the boat, but were scarcely the less enjoyable for that—so great was their beauty.

When they reached their destination and the boat rounded to at the wharf, they perceived a welcoming group awaiting their landing—all the relatives from Magnolia, the Parsonage, and Torriswood. There was a joyful exchange of greetings with them and then with the group of servants standing a little in the rear.

In accordance with written directions sent by Grandma Elsie some days in advance of her arrival, a feast had been prepared and the whole connection in that neighborhood invited to partake of it. And not one older or younger had failed to come, for she was too dearly loved for an invitation from her to be neglected unless the hinderance were such as could not be ignored or set aside. Dr. Dick Percival and his Maud were there among the rest; Dick's half brother Dr. Robert Johnson, and Maud's sister Sidney also. They gave a very joyful and affectionate greeting to their brother Chester and to Lucilla Raymond, then attached themselves to her for the short walk from the wharf up to the house.

"Oh, Lu," said Maud, "we are so glad that we are to have you for our sister. I don't know any other girl I should be so pleased to have come into the family. And Ches will make a good kind husband, I am sure, for he has always been a dear good brother."

"Indeed he has," said Sidney. "And we are hoping that he and Frank will come and settle down here near us."

"Oh, no, indeed!" exclaimed Lulu. "I should like to live near you two, but nothing would induce me to make my home so far away from my father. And Chester has promised never to take me away from him."

"Oh, I was hoping you would want to come," said Maud. "But Ches is one to keep his word; so that settles it."

But they had reached the house and here the talk ended for the time.

The new arrivals retired to their rooms for a little attention to the duties of the toilet, then all gathered about the well-spread board and made a hearty meal, enlivened by cheerful chat mingled with many an innocent jest and not a little mirthful laughter. It was still early when the meal was concluded, and the next hour or two were spent in pleasant, familiar intercourse upon the verandas or in the beautiful grounds. Then the guests began to return to their homes, those with young children leaving first. The Torriswood family stayed a little longer, and at their urgent request Chester consented to become their guest for the first few days, if no longer.

"There are two good reasons why you should do so," said Dick in a half-jesting tone: "firstly, I having married your sister, by that we are the most nearly related; and secondly, as Bob and I are both physicians, we may be better able to take proper care of you than these good and kind relatives."

"Dick, Dick," remonstrated Violet, "how you forget! or is it professional jealousy? Have we not been careful to bring along with us one of the very physicians who have had charge of Chester's case?"

"Why, sure enough!" exclaimed Dick. "Harold, old fellow, I beg your pardon! and to make amends, should I get sick I shall certainly have you called in at once."

"Which will quite make amends," returned Harold, laughing; "as it will give me a good opportunity to punish your impertinence in ignoring my claims as one of the family physicians."

"Ah!" returned Dick, "I perceive that my wiser plan will be to keep well."

There was a general laugh, a moment's pause, then Robert, sending a smiling glance in Sidney's direction, said, "Now, dear friends and relatives, Sid and I have a communication to make. We have decided to follow the good example set us by our brother and sister—Maud and Dick—and so we expect in two or three weeks to take each other for better or for worse."

The announcement caused a little surprise to most of those present, but everyone seemed pleased; thinking it a suitable match in every way.

"I think you have chosen wisely—both of you," said Grandma Elsie, "and I hope there are many years of happiness in store for you; happiness and usefulness. And, Chester," turning to him, "remember that these doors are wide open to you at all times. Come back when you will and stay as long as you will."

"Thank you, cousin; you are most kindly hospitable," Chester said with a gratified look and smile. "The two places are so near together that I can readily divide my time between them; which—both being so attractive—is certainly very fortunate for me."

"And for all of us," said Violet; "as we shall be able to see more of each other than we could if farther apart."

"Yes; I shall hope and expect to see you all coming in every day," added her mother with hospitable cordiality.

"Thank you, Cousin Elsie," said Maud, "but, though it is delightful to come here, we must not let it be altogether a one-sided affair. Please remember to return our visits whenever you find it convenient and pleasant to do so."

With that they took leave and departed, and a little later those constituting the family for the time bade each other good-night, and most of them retired to their sleeping apartments.

Not quite all of them, however. Max, Evelyn, and Lucilla stepped out upon the veranda again, Max remarking, "The grounds are looking bewitchingly beautiful in the moonlight; suppose we take a little stroll down to the bayou."

"You two go if you like, but I want to have a word or two with papa," said Lucilla, glancing toward her father, who was standing quietly and alone at some little distance, seemingly absorbed in gazing upon the beauties of the landscape.

"Well, we will not be gone long," said Evelyn, as she and Max descended the steps while Lucilla glided softly in her father's direction.

He did not seem aware of her approach until she was close at his side, and laying a hand on his arm, said in her low, sweet tones:

"I have come for my dear father's good-night caresses, and to hear anything he may have to say to his eldest daughter."

"Ah, that is right," he said, turning and putting an arm about her and drawing her into a close embrace. "I hope all goes well with you, dear child. If not, your father is the very one to bring your troubles to."

"Thank you, dear papa," she said; "if I had any troubles I should certainly bring them to you; but I have not. Oh, I do think I am the happiest girl in the land! with your dear love and Chester's too. And Max with us again; and all of us well and in this lovely, lovely place!"

"Yes, we have a great deal to be thankful for," he returned. "But you will miss Chester, now that he has left here for Torriswood."

"Oh, not very much," she said with a happy little laugh; "for he has assured me that he will be here at least a part of every day; the ride or walk from Torriswood being not too long to be taken with pleasure and profit."

"And doubtless some of the time you will be there. By the way, you should give Sidney something handsome as a wedding present. You may consider what would be suitable and likely to please, consult with the other ladies, and let your father know what the decision is—that he may get the article, or supply the means."

"Thank you ever so much, father dear," she replied in grateful tones, "but you have given me such a generous supply of pocket money that I don't think I shall need to call upon you for help about this. But I shall ask your advice about what the gift shall be and be sure not to buy anything of which you do not approve."

"Spoken like my own dear, loving daughter," he said approvingly, and with a slight caress. "By the way, did Robert Johnson's bit of news make my daughter and her lover a trifle jealous that their engagement must be so long a one?"

"Not me, papa; I am entirely willing—yes, very glad—to be subject to your orders; very loath to leave the dear home with you and pass from under your care and protection. Oh, I sometimes feel as if I could never do it. But then I say to myself, 'But I shall always be my dear father's child and we need not—we will not love each other the less because another claims a share of my affection.' Is that not so, papa?"

"Yes, daughter; and I do not believe anything can ever make either one of us love the other less. But it is growing late and about time for my eldest daughter to be seeking her nest, if she wants to be up with the birds in the morning and ready to share a stroll with her father through these beautiful grounds before breakfast."

"Yes, sir; but, if you are willing, I should like to wait for Evelyn.
She and Max will be in presently, I think. Papa, I do think they have
begun to be lovers, and I am glad; for I should dearly love to have
Eva for a sister."

"And I should not object to having her for a daughter," returned the captain, with a pleased little laugh. "And you are not mistaken, so far as Max is concerned. He asked me to-day if I were willing that he should try to win the dear girl, and I told him most decidedly so; that I heartily wished him success in his wooing. Though, as in your case, I think marriage would better be deferred for a year or two."

"Yes, Max would be quite as much too young for a bridegroom as I for a bride," she said with a slight and amused laugh; "and I don't believe he would disregard his father's advice. All your children love you dearly and have great confidence in your opinion on every subject, father dear."

"As I have in their love and willingness to be guided by me," the captain responded in a tone of gratification. "You may wait for Evelyn. I think she and Max will be in presently. Ah, yes; see they are turning this way now."

Max had given his arm to Evelyn as they left the house, and crossing the lawn together they strolled slowly along the bank of the bayou.

"Oh, such a beautiful night as it is!" exclaimed Evelyn, "and the air is so soft and balmy one can hardly realize that in our more northern homes cold February reigns."

"No," said Max, "and I am glad we are escaping the blustering March winds that will soon be visiting that section. Still, for the year round I prefer that climate to this."

"Yes; but it is very pleasant to be able to go from one section to another as the seasons change," said Eva. "I think we are very fortunate people in being able to do it."

"Yes," returned Max, "but after all one's happiness depends far more upon being in congenial society and with loved ones than upon climate, scenery—or anything else. Eva," and he turned to her as with sudden determination, "I—I think I can never again be happy away from you. I love you and want you for my own. You have said you would like to be my father's daughter, and I can make you that if you will only let me. Say, dearest, oh, say that you will let me—that you will be mine—my own dear little wife."

"Max, oh, Max," she answered in low, trembling tones, "I—I am afraid you don't know me quite as I am—that you would be disappointed—would repent of having said what you have."

"Never, never! if you will only say yes; if you will only promise to be mine—my own love, my own dear little wife." And putting an arm about her he drew her close, pressing an ardent kiss upon her lips.

She did not repulse him, and continuing his endearments and entreaties he at length drew from her an acknowledgment that she returned his love.

Then presently they turned their steps toward the mansion, as happy a pair as could be found in the whole length and breadth of the land.

Captain Raymond and Lucilla were waiting for them, and Max, leading Evelyn to his father, said in joyous tones, "I have won a new daughter for you, father, and a dear sweet wife for myself. At least she has promised to be both to us one of these days."

"Ah, I am well pleased," the captain said, taking Eva's hand in his, and bending down to give her a fatherly caress. "I have always felt that I should like to take her into my family and do a father's part by her."

"Oh, captain, you are very, very kind," returned Eva, low and feelingly; "there is nobody in the wide world whose daughter I should prefer to be."

"And oh, Eva, I shall be so glad to have you really my sister!" exclaimed Lucilla, giving her friend a warm embrace. "Max, you dear fellow, I'm ever so glad and so much obliged to you."

"You needn't to be, sis. Eva is the one deserving of thanks for accepting one so little worthy of her as this sailor brother of yours," returned Max, with a happy laugh.

"Yes, we will give her all the credit," said the captain; "and hope that you, my son, will do your best to prove yourself worthy of the prize you have won. And now, my dears, it is high time we were all retiring to rest; in order that we may have strength and spirits for the duties and pleasures of to-morrow."

Evelyn and Lucilla were sharing a room communicating directly with the one occupied by Grace and little Elsie, and that opened into the one where the captain and Violet slept.

In compliance with the captain's advice the young girls at once retired to their room to seek their couches for the night; but first they indulged in a bit of loving chat.

"Oh, Eva," Lucilla exclaimed, holding her friend in a loving embrace, "I am so glad, so very, very glad that we are to be sisters. And Max I am sure will make you a good, kind husband. He has always been the best and dearest of brothers to me—as well as to Grace and the little ones."

"Yes, I know it," said Evelyn softly. "I know too that your father has always been the best and kindest of husbands and that Max is very much like him."

"And you love Max?"

"How could I help it?" asked Evelyn, blushing as she spoke. "I thought it was as a dear brother I cared for him, till—till he asked me to—to be his wife; but then I knew better. Oh, it was so sweet to learn that he loved me so! and I am so happy! I am not the lonely girl I was this morning—fatherless and motherless and without brother or sister. Oh, I have them all now—except the mother," she added with a slight laugh—"for of course your Mamma Vi is much too young to be that to me."

"Yes; as she is to be a mother to Max, Gracie, and me. But with such a father as ours one could do pretty well without a mother. Don't you think so?"

"Yes; he seems to be father and mother both to those of his children who have lost their mother."

"He is indeed. But now I must obey his last order by getting to bed as quickly as I can."

"I, too," laughed Evelyn; "it seems really delightful to have a father to obey." She ended with a slight sigh, thinking of the dear father who had been so long in the better land.