"I see a wild-looking child with yellow eyes, a mat of curly black hair, a lank little bodice, her two thin brown arms embracing a gaunt old dog with crooked legs, big feet, and turned-in toes."
"Is that all?"
"All."
"You do not see latent beauty, courage, and a possible great gulf of love in that poor wild little face?"
"Nothing of the kind," replied Christine decidedly. "I see an ugly little girl; that is all."
The next day the boat returned, and brought back five persons, the old grandfather, Felipa, Drollo, Miguel of the island, and—Edward Bowne.
"Already?" I said.
"Tired of the Madre, Kitty; thought I would come up here and see you for a while. I knew you must be pining for me."
"Certainly," I replied; "do you not see how I have wasted away?"
He drew my arm through his and raced me down the plank-walk toward the shore, where I arrived laughing and out of breath.