seat and began to urge him to tell them stories, using a style of English that was by no means equal to that of the mother. "Stop, stop, let me see sister Kathy first. I can't begin without her. Where is she?" "Somewhere, I s'pose," said the eldest boy. "No doubt of that. Go--fetch her," returned the captain. At that moment a back-door opened, and a girl of about seventeen years of age entered. She was pleasant-looking rather than pretty--tall, graceful, and with magnificent black eyes. "Here she comes," cried the captain, rising and kissing her. "Why, Kathy, how you've grown since I saw you last! Quite a woman, I declare!" Kathy was not too much of a woman, however, to join her brothers and sisters in forcing the captain into a seat and demanding a story on the spot. "Stop, stop!" cried the captain, grasping round their waists a small boy and girl who had already clambered on his knees. "Let me inquire about my old friends first--and let me introduce my son to you--you've taken no notice of _him_ yet! That's not hospitable." All eyes were turned at once on Nigel, some boldly, others with a shy inquiring look, as though to say, Can _you_ tell stories? "Com
