Edith also smiled. Their new acquaintance was looking from one to another, a charming and rather mischievous expression lighting a sweet face.
"You're a little sister compatriot," she said to Edith; "but I fancy this little lady comes from across the ocean."
"Yes, I do," said Frances, "but how did you know?"
The young lady laughed merrily. "Oh, I've knocked about a good bit. And I happen to have known one American boy very well. Indeed, we really grew up together in Italy and England. 'Brick' is rather an American word, isn't it? I've surely heard my friend use it. Americans seldom find their way to Jersey. Are you stopping long?"
"Perhaps all winter," replied Frances.
"There are many delightful excursions to make in the island," said the young lady. "Come along, Tylo. We must go home to tea. Oh," she added to the girls, "when you go on picnics, don't forget to look for caves."
With another smile and a charming little nod, she left them.
"I wonder who she is," said Frances, frankly looking after her. The erect lithe figure was crowned by a finely poised head and a wealth of beautiful fair hair, prettily arranged. Something in her face suggested possibilities of good comradeship, and her dress, while simplicity itself, betrayed a French origin.
"She looks nice enough and ladylike enough to be an American," thought
Frances approvingly and with a sudden stab of homesickness.
"I wish she'd told us her name," she went on aloud, "and who the
American boy was. Perhaps we might know him."