Grace's strength held out wonderfully; she insisted she was not at all tired, even when the end of their walk was reached.

The other division of the party had arrived some minutes before, and several were already making the ascent to the top of the lighthouse tower; the rest were scattered, waiting their turn in the neat parlor of the keeper's snug little home, or wandering over the grassy expanse between it and the sea.

"There are Grandma Elsie and mamma in the house," cried Grace, catching sight of them through a window.

"Yes," said her father, "we will go in there and wait our turn with them," leading the way as he spoke. "Do you want to go up into the tower, Gracie?"

"Oh no, no, papa!" she cried, "what would be the use? and I am afraid I might fall."

"What, with your big strong father to hold you fast?" . . . Read More