Philip approached. "Good-morrow, fair one; posing for a study of Aurora?"
Diana looked around at him with deliberation. "I was deciding what individuals of the fauna and flora here were most marked."
Philip ducked his face down into her bouquet. "You chose the sweet pea, of course."
"No, I decided on swallows and daisies. The swallows are ravishing: so fearless and so beautiful. Have you noticed how they dart past, nearly brushing our cheeks, and how the sun brings out glints of blue in their plumage? I often mistake them for bluebirds with that touch of color on their breasts."
"Daisies and swallows," said Philip musingly. "They do seem to belong especially. It makes me think of a song." He paused. "Did you hear that booming of a new whistle this morning? There's a stranger in the cove, a swell yacht. I thought you might like to come down and see it."
"Yes, I should. Let me put the flowers in water and I will be with you." She reappeared quickly, and they struck off across the field to the road.
"How could I know it was a strange whistle?" asked the girl.
"I suppose you wouldn't, but to us islanders every familiar whistle is like the voice of a friend. Kelly is waiting for us in his boat. We want to row out to the beauty."
"It was very kind of you to come 'way up here for me," said Diana.