Could it be that, after all, they were engaged? If so, he knew that life—which, with its new possibilities, had lately become strangely sweet—would again be a dark and careful problem.
CHAPTER VIII.
BETWEEN TWO LOVERS.
Barbara had been exercising all her fascinations in beguiling Mr. Warde. She was attired in one of Orme's blue smocks, in which her small body was somewhat lost, but in which she was equally pretty as when attired in her own daintinesses. Her nurse had fostered in her a taste for dress, which so far prompted a desire for her father's approval; but the male tuition she was now under promised soon to qualify this taste.
She had informed Mr. Warde of her importance in Orme's dress, and received his sympathy, with pretty little pattings down of the blue linen, until recalled to business by Sandy's whistle.
"Bardedie go dig," she announced, showing all her white teeth in an alluring smile, and trotting off to the cave side.
Down below, the boys were strenuously repairing the ravages of the thunderstorm, and all hands—and baskets—were in requisition. The rôle of highwayman, like that of ghost, having palled, they were eager to begin the more important one of settler. David had arranged the start for the next day, and they were excitedly making preparations and collecting necessary stores.
These included numerous and unlikely things.
"Settlers have spades; we shan't want any, as ours isn't diggin' ground," objected David to Sandy's list.