It was chilly at the edge of the bluff. There was a sprinkle of rain and a cool breeze that tossed the girl's hair away from her face. But Gracie didn't think about the cold or the damp.

A flood of passionate tears had come, and she had cried until she was almost breathless. But it hadn't helped her much. Now, she stood and stared out at nothing in a hopeless way. She was so trapped in despair that she didn't hear the quiet footsteps which were approaching her.

For a moment, Arthur paused and looked at his sister. She looked almost like a statue with her wispy blonde hair, her porcelain skin, and her perfectly white gown. For a child, she was as beautiful as a painting. At last, he stepped closer to the sad girl.

"What are you looking at, Grace?" he asked quietly.

The girl gave a slight start and lifted her wide eyes toward him. She felt her heart fluttering in fear. For an awkward moment, she stared at him without saying a word. At last she took a breath and dropped her gaze to the ground in timidity. "I...I am afraid I was not looking at anything," she stammered at last. "I was only thinking to myself."

"And what were you thinking about?" her brother asked. There was a sweetness in his tone. She glanced and saw a look of gentle kindness in his deep blue eyes. For a moment, it stilled the raging storm in Grace's heart. What was that look? Was it fondness? Devotion? Love? She felt an instant of relief, a flicker of hope. Then his question came back to her mind, and the faint tint of color which had brightened her cheeks faded again.

I cannot tell him what I was thinking! she thought in dread. Oh, I cannot! If I tell him all that Auntie said and how it made me feel, he will think I am being horribly rebellious! Then again, what did it matter? She was sure he already thought that she was a dreadful, ill-mannered child. He had believed everything her aunt had said at the breakfast table even though it hadn't been true.

Fighting with her miserable fears, she wrapped her arms around her chilled body and looked away again. New tears were starting to trickle down her cheeks, and she couldn't stop them. It was all she could do to keep from bursting into sobs.

A feeling of protective love grew in Arthur's heart as he saw her struggling against fear and sorrow. Couldn't he take her in his arms as he had done when she was only four? Couldn't he heal her pain with a smile?

"Dearest sister, what is the matter?" he asked tenderly. "You needn't be afraid, Gracie. Tell me all about it."

The girl looked into his eyes once again, surprised and drawn by his comforting tone. She hadn't heard him speak that way since she had been a tiny child. The sound of her name in his voice was like sweet music to her ears, and the look on his face was like medicine. Suddenly, every chain holding her back broke apart. With a flood of tears, she let go of her timidity and threw herself into her brother's arms.

"Arthur!" she wept. "You must think me so stupid and horrible! I'm sorry! Sometimes I feel afraid that I am! But it feels as if I am always doing everything wrong! If I speak, I say the wrong thing. And if I keep quiet, Auntie scolds me and tells me that I should have said more! Now I don't know what to do!"

Her brother's arms tightened around her, clasping her so closely to his heart that she could hear it drumming with a mixture of sorrow and hope.

"Poor little sister," he said. "How could I think any ill of you? You have been as quiet and gentle as a dove all this time."

"But did I not disappoint you? And did I not annoy you, Arthur?" the child sobbed.

"Of course not! My only disappointment was in realizing how long we had been apart and how little I knew you. That was my fault, Gracie. I should have come back to you long ago. I should have given all my time to showing you how dearly I love you!"

"You love me?" Grace faltered with budding hope.

Arthur bent down and kissed the little girl's forehead. "Very much," he answered.

A sudden warm blush rose to her cheeks. As she looked up at his gentle smile, her fears began to melt away. Yes, love; it was what made Arthur's eyes shine as he met her gaze. It was what made his arms hold her so closely, as if he would never let go.

"Let me tell you what I think of you, sister," he said with a fond smile. "I think that you are beautiful, and that you are good. I think that you are talented, and clever, and that you are the image of our mother."

Gracie's eyes started sparkling through her tears, and she laughed happily as all of her pains faded away.

"Now," Arthur went on, changing the subject, "I have a gift for you. I hope you will like it. I bought it for you before I came here, and I am sorry I did not show it to you sooner."

The girl looked surprised as her brother let her go and placed a little object in her arms. It was wrapped in pink satin with ribbons and lace fringing the edges. She cast him a questioning look. Then, with a sunny smile on her face, she let out a childish giggle and unwrapped her present. Beneath the silky fabric, she found a china-faced doll that was more beautiful than any doll she had ever seen. She gasped in delight and clasped the pretty thing to her heart. "Oh, Arthur!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Is she really mine? May I have her? May I..." she hesitated, looking nervous and afraid to hope, "may I play with her?"

Arthur laughed happily. "I hope you do!" he answered. "I would be rather sorry if you did not!"

"But...Auntie says that I am too old to play," the girl noted, holding her doll tighter.

Arthur looked perplexed. Then he laughed and swung his arm around his sister's shoulders. "I would not mind everything that Aunt Amelia says, if I were you," he advised lightheartedly. "To me, you are just a little girl, and you shall do just what a little girl likes to do."

Grace sighed in joyful relief and leaned close to her brother as they walked down to the seaside. Her brother sheltered her from the wind with his own coat and, together, neither one of them felt the cold breeze.

"Now, tell me, sister," Arthur began cheerfully, "when we go to London, what will you enjoy the most?"

The girl hesitated. "I will enjoy being with you," she answered, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"I am glad of that! But will you enjoy nothing else?" her brother asked.

Gracie looked up at him humbly. "May I tell you the truth, Arthur?" she asked. "I don't like London. The streets are so busy, and there is so much noise that it makes my head ache just thinking about it. Besides that..." She paused again, wondering if it was very naughty of her to confess everything.

"What is it, Gracie?" Arthur urged.

"There is still so much to do here. I like it here at Netherstrand! And I have not been in a boat, or seen many of the shops, or even taken many walks on the sand since we arrived. And then, there is the treasure!" she added, starting to glow with excitement. "Have you heard of it, Arthur? Oh, it is such a beautiful story! And I have been searching for it all this time with a boy named Timothy!"

The girl chattered on, growing more confident all the time as her brother listened and commented with the most pleasant smile. By the time they turned around and headed back to Netherstrand, she was hanging onto his arm fearlessly, clinging to him as her most beloved possession and one of her dearest friends.

When they reached their uncle's suite again, they found Amelia and Preston packing their things very busily.

"Ah, Arthur!" Mrs. Carlyle exclaimed with a teasing sort of smile. "I see you have retrieved our little truant! Grace, dear, you must hurry to do your lessons and spend the rest of your time packing to leave. After thinking about it, your uncle and I have decided that we will leave early tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow!" Grace cried. "But...but I thought we had another day at Netherstrand!"

"We have had a change of plans," Amelia answered with a shrug. Then, giving Arthur a scheming smile, she added, "I happened to discover that there is going to be a ball in London two days from now. It would be just the thing for you, Arthur!"

Arthur's heart recoiled in displeasure. "I am at a loss to understand you," he said gravely.

"No, you are not. I know you are too clever not to catch my drift," the woman insisted. She gave him a chiding look and an exasperated sigh as she tried to urge him. "My dear nephew, you have been unmarried for more than a year! It is high time you stopped mourning and start considering your future. You do have a future, you know! You must live your life to its fullest."

At last, a smile stole the look of sternness from the young man's face. "In that, you speak the truth," he allowed. "I will live my life to the fullest, marveling over God's creations, and watching my little sister grow up. I will live my life looking forward to the day when I will meet my wife, and more importantly, my Savior, in Heaven. That, to me, is the best future I could wish for! But beyond that, I look for nothing."

Amelia turned her distressed blue eyes upon him. "Dearest Arthur," she complained, "although it relieves me to hear you speak as a Christian, I could have hoped that a little religion would restore you to a more optimistic mindset. You are so depressing and closed-minded! Do you really mean to spend the rest of your life as a widower? I confess, I cannot understand you!"

"No," the man sighed, "I suppose you cannot. For some reason, you cannot seem to understand that I loved once and will never love again. Not in that way, at least. You accuse me of not being optimistic, but is it not the height of optimism to rejoice in salvation? To hope and trust that, through Christ's mercy, I may enter Heaven's gates?" His tone was gentle, and his countenance was bright as he carried on. "Don't fret over me, Aunt Amelia. I am not depressed. In fact, I am happier than I have ever been in my life! Go to London and enjoy yourself. My company would be nothing but a hindrance to you. Besides that, this small town by the sea is so pleasant that I will be truly sorry to leave it."

Mrs. Carlyle let out a sigh of disappointment, but she smiled after a while. "As you wish, dear Arthur," she said. "But really, I do think you are forfeiting a great enjoyment which would have done you good." She glanced toward Gracie and then looked back at Arthur questioningly. "And...what about your sister?" she asked hesitantly. "Be sure, we wouldn't grudge taking her along with us. But do remember," she added rather hastily, "you are her legal guardian. And with that in mind, wouldn't it seem a bit strange for us to..."

"You need not trouble your mind about that," Arthur interrupted, sounding slightly displeased. "You have done enough for my sister. I am grateful for the care you have taken of her, but there is no more need for it now. As you say, I am her guardian, and it is my joy to keep and raise her."

Grace breathed a sigh of relief, holding on tightly to her lovely new doll and feeling her brother's arm tighten around her possessively.

The rest of Gracie's evening was blissful. She played with her doll without fear, and if Amelia even vaguely criticized her for it, Arthur was ready with a peaceful but firm way to defend his little sister. Grace's only real dilemma came when her cousin Enna tried to demand a turn with her new toy. Gracie didn't want to be selfish or unkind, but it was so difficult for her to give the prized doll up. "You must give her back soon," she began reluctantly. "And you must be very careful with her."

"I will give her back when I am ready to," Enna laughed, reaching out to take the pretty poppet. "You can play with that silly thing! I don't like it any more. I'm going to take it to London, and Papa will trade it in at the pawn shop for something else," she added, motioning toward the old doll she had stolen long ago. Grace hesitated to hand the new toy over, and she eyed her old one with a throb of sorrowful longing. "Come along, give it to me!" Enna demanded. But still Grace held back. Then Arthur's voice interrupted with a note of authority.

"Enna, if you wish for people to share with you, you must be a kind child," he said. "You cannot play with that doll until I see that you are a sweet-mannered little girl. Nor can you play with the old one. That is Grace's doll; I remember the day my mother gave it to her. It is not yours to take or use without permission. Tomorrow, you must leave it here." His gentle but strict command set off a volcano of anger in little Enna's heart. She stamped her foot and made life miserable for her family. But Grace was not miserable. She was floating on the wings of delight. For once, she had a defender, someone who loved and protected her.

That evening, her big brother was her idol once again. But when she went to bed, the whole day's events replayed in her mind, and she began to see a clear picture of what had happened. Every joy she had received had been a gift from her Heavenly Father. It was he who deserved her praise and her thanks. He had pulled her brother out of despair, and he had drawn them close in love so they could worship him together for all eternity.