"There is not much sand left," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick, as they strolled along, "the sea is a sad encroacher, Aveline, and stays for you no more than for King Knute."
But Aveline was weeping silently, and made no reply.
"Aveline, dearest, what is it?" asked Mrs. Fitzpatrick, and her heart trembled within her, for of all things she most dreaded her daughter's suspecting her danger; she knew the rapid inroads of imagination upon a delicate frame.
"Nothing, mamma," said Aveline. "I am low spirited to-day, and do not feel strong enough to resist crying—that is all."
"You must not be so much alone," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick, "have you seen Brand's children?"
"Yes, they have just left me;" said Aveline, "they are nice little creatures, and Jane grows taller I think every day."
"Mrs. Fletcher has sent you a basket of her fine raspberries," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick, "and a very kind note with them."
"She is very good. I meet every where with great kindness," said Aveline.
"You must take care we do not walk too far," said her mother, "suppose you rest a little."
"I will stand a minute, and watch the sea, mamma," said Aveline.