"Mr. Sidney is a stranger in a strange land," she said. "He will be entirely dependent on his hosts this first day. Why shouldn't we run over there?" she added with a bright thought. "That's only island neighborliness."
But Eliza shook her head.
"It would be the very way to begin a new chapter," urged Mrs. Wright.
Eliza gazed from the window by which she was sitting. In the evolution to health and peace which the winter had brought, her causes of offence had gradually retreated into greater perspective, and the broad calm outlook which Mrs. Wright brought to bear on the untoward as well as the agreeable events of life had affected the narrow hardness of her own observations. Nevertheless, to beard the lioness in her den on the very day of her arrival would be a feat entirely beyond Eliza; so she only shook her head again, put on a shade hat, turned up the skirt of her dress, and went out to weed the sweet peas.
Thus it was that, with her back to the boulder cottage and her hands busy with the earth she loved, she did not hear steps that approached on the springy turf; and the first notice she had of the arrival of callers was a man's voice speaking above her.
"Doing finely, aren't they?" was the remark.
Well she knew the voice. She stepped on her petticoat in her haste to arise, and two strong hands went under her arms and lifted her to her feet.
"Mr. Philip!" she said gladly.