"I want to go over there to-night, Freddy."
"You can't walk that far."
"Try me. I've never seen Miss Barry's cottage, and I—well, I can't stay away."
"We'll walk over with you, then," said Whitcomb gravely. He walked toward Madge and called her, and she came springing across the grass.
"Ho for the rock?" she cried gayly.
"No. King wants to go to Miss Barry's. He thinks he's up to it. We'll walk over with him."
The three moved away across the enchanted field. The night was hushed. Even the tide whispered. Not yet sounded the crescendo which would culminate at midnight in a crashing, magnificent choral.
Madge scented something novel in the mental atmosphere. Her companions were grateful for her easy chatter.
When they neared the shingled cottage she protested tentatively.
"Oh, do we have to go into the house on such a glorious night?"