The Press., 1892-09-15

coll mansion the nurSemaid, ill cap and apron, was chasing a young boatman among the rocks, with the declared pur- pose of boxing his ears. The childs perambulator was empty; close to the water stood Flossy herself. She had sent her little hat out upon the waves, with her doll in it as ships master, and she was just launching her little red shoe to follow it,
 My ship. Aunty Pam.'' she cried, ''see my shipl'
 "Why, you might get drowned, Flos- sy," cried Aunt Pam.
 "No; seeY' cried the child, running down to the water, and standing there as great wave swept up and broke, wetting her feet. ''See. Flossy. isn't afraidr'
 Half an hour after this, the nurse maid, having boxed the boatman's ears and been punished by kiss. for which she had to box them again and so on, bethought her of little Miss Flossy Driscoll, and went in search of her.
 The perambulator was safe, the doll was still sailing about in the broad brimmed hat The little red shoe had been washed up on black rock, a spade and pail were discovered, but no Flossy. Alarm turned to terror, terror to certainty that the child was drowned. Mysteries supervened. All Hingham came down to the shore, but nothing else was found, not even the poor child's body. The local paper had an article ill next days issue commiserating our esteemed citizen, MT. Norman Driscon. on the new af1iction with which prov idence had seen fit to af1lict him, and he was reported as being prostrated with grief, as indeed he was. For week he wanted to die. Before the next wils over he went to the cottage for consola- tion. He had given up his trip to Europe. Not knowing that some women must be subtle, even to their latest breath. he believed that since he had no child and could not give her a stepmother. that oath of his was now a dead letter, that his wife's spirit would absolve him from it if she knew anything of earthly matters.
 Poor Mrs. Driscol1 had outwitted her self. Had she been frank and bade her husband never to marry she would have gained her point, for at that moment he would have taken any oath she desired. Now he felt himself free and he began to woo Edwina, who held out bravely for a long while. l s1It is not what Jacintha meant, Aunt Pam," she said. "She didn't want him to marry again under any circum- stances"
 'tShe should have said what she meant then," Miss Pam cried. ''oh. dear. | dearp'
 At last one day the spinster burst into violent flood of tears at the break l fast table.
 | 'f you don't marry Norman Driscoll, | shall go crazyw she said. That evening Edwina gave up her battle. Driscon had now been widower four years, and he and Aunt Pam hurried on the wedding, and Edwina was off and away on her honeymoon journey ill no time.
 No sooner were they away and the house clear of friends and neighbors who had been bidden to the feast than Aunt Pam, locking her doors and draw ing down her blinds, rushed up the gar ret stairs and descended them with a child in her arms. The child was Flossy. The little thing was fat, rosy and snil- ing, and clung to Aunt Pam's neck with both arms and kissed her cheek fondly. Since the day of her disappearance, when, as my reader no doubt under stands, Miss Pam had stolen her away, her nursery had been the big garret, and l Miss Pam had been her nurse. What the after consequences to herself might be she had not thought, but she had de- termined to remove the obstacle that lay between Norman and Edwina. 1 Believing his child dead, that oath to refrain from giving her stepnother became null and void. Edwina's happi- ness was assured. and Flossy might come to life as soon as she chose. It would be to Norman as joyful miracle. and add to Edwina's bliss. l Now, however, poor Aunt Pam began to ask herself what might be said to her thought of her? Norman and Edwina would forgive her no doubt, but the neighbors, the people who had known her all her life, what would they say7 It might get into the papers, and the worst of all was that people would believe that Edwina knew all about it. That thought had never struck her before.
 "Oh, dear, dear!'' sighed Aunt Pam, 'tthe way of the transgressor is hard; I've done evil that good may come of it, and 1 expect shall be punished. calkerlate to drop dead when stand up and face 'em and own up"
 l A knock came upon the front door. Aunt Pam turned pale and carried Flossy up to her garret nursery before she answered the summons. A big man with an iron gray beard stood there He lifted his hat and dis played very bald head and a sun burned face. ''Miss Palmer. l reckcnT he said.
 "Yes," said Aunt Pam, ''but you hev | the advantage of me-
 'tGive you nine guesses who l be, 7 said the man, walking into the parlor.
 "You ain't connected with the police, are you?" queried Miss Pam. pulling uI the blinds.
 "Why, do look thaty' asked the man. "No, I'm connected with the sea-" He laughed a little nervously. ''Tm about twice the size was when saw you last" he said. This beard has grown since thento make up for this," and he rubbed his shiny crown. "Oh," cried Aunt Pam, ''it cant bel' I The man put his hand into his pocket and pulled out tiny initten, knitted oi blue wool, and held it up by the bit oi ribbon at the wrist.
 "You ain't seen me since you sent me away with that" he said.
 Jefferson Fosdick!' cried Aunt Pam I "It's me. Cap'n Fosdick, they call me now," said the man. Master and owner of as fine schooner as ever sailed. Iran away to sea because my heart was broke Calkerlated to expire shortly. But you see didn't"