LIFE IN THE LIGHT-HOUSE. 371 



proud to let him come nearer her because she was the 

 daughter of a planter, and lie a vagrant hunter. Now 

 she was too proud even to think of him, for she was the 

 child of misfortune, poor, and an orphan. It needs but 

 a little excuse to let the proud heart work out its will. 

 Lou Jackson had shown it rich and poor all the more 

 because she could not rid herself of that unconfessed re- 

 gard. There were other men that w r ere bold*er than 

 Mike. The dark eyes that had flashed to her at St. 

 Augustine, the ready tongue and fair words, were they 

 not the signals of a higher life and warmer heart ? Had 

 this immense world no life and form, in it that was per- 

 fect to her ideal ? 



" Fool fool ! I am a fool !" she said aloud, springing 

 upon her feet. Taking a cloth from a locker, she began 

 polishing the reflectors of the light, whistling some old 

 air between the pauses of her duty. 



" Donald, isn't it time to light up ?" presently called 

 her voice from the gallery of the lantern. 



" Yes," answered her uncle from below, scanning the 

 horizon with a long look to note the gathering shadows. 



In a moment more it was dark, and the sailor pacing 

 his watch on the ship in the offing called from the fore- 

 castle deck to the mate : " Cape Florida light, sir, on tho 

 port bow, ten miles away." 



