She leaned on her mother, and remained gazing on the long range of broken rocks against which the waves were tossing their white foam. These rocks, which a little way out at sea, rose some feet above the level of the water, decreased in size as they advanced to the shore, and appeared nothing more than an irregular mass of rough stones, covered with slippery green sea-weed.
Presently a speck appeared on the horizon, and gradually advancing, presented the appearance of some slender vessel. "Look, Aveline, there is a yacht!" said Mrs. Fitzpatrick, "what a beautiful thing it is!"
"Yes, a pretty toy," returned Aveline listlessly, "but I prefer a fishing boat, I think my sympathies go rather with the poor, than with the rich. What tales of the still magnificence of moonlight nights, what adventures, what perils of winds and storms are connected with the meanest of those little vessels. And the watchful wife, and the sleeping unconscious children, during those rough dark nights, while the father is out toiling for their bread. I do not like the gentry of our day, mamma; all the poetry is on the side of these poor folks."
Mrs. Fitzpatrick smiled, "See," she said, "they have lowered a boat; one of your despised gentlefolks is coming ashore."
Aveline turned her eyes carelessly in the direction of the boat. "I dare say," she replied, "it belongs to the person who has taken the villa on the other side of the cliff. Mark said it had been let the other day. It would be a very convenient place for any one fond of boating." The boat, at length, neared the shore, and a man in a sailor's costume sitting idly in the stern, threw out a couple of dogs, who swam towards the land.
Aveline, not sufficiently interested in their proceedings to continue watching them, turned slowly away, and loitered along the shore in an opposite direction.
Meantime the dogs had come to land; and one of these, a setter of remarkable beauty after shaking the spray from his coat, ran prying along the shore, until upon reaching Aveline and her mother, he uttered a bark of recognition, and sprang fawning upon them.
"Mamma!" exclaimed Aveline breathless with excitement, "look; it is Farfallo! How well I recollect him. See, he knows me! Don't you remember my naming him at Sorrento? Oh, I cannot be mistaken!"
"Dear Aveline, it is very unlikely," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick. "No! I am sure—certain of it," cried Aveline, "how could I forget him?"
Her agitation, the glow in her cheeks, the light in her eyes, as she stooped and caressed the dog with a delight that she took no pains to disguise, gave a hope to Mrs. Fitzpatrick that sent a thrill of pleasure through her heart. It was evident that Farfallo's master could not be far off. It was equally evident that Aveline had not forgotten him; all her illness might arise merely from depression of spirits, from that protracted hope, which while it makes sick the heart, seldom altogether spares the body. Doctors did make such extraordinary mistakes in people's complaints. Mr. Lindsay, though a very judicious man, was not infallible; and Mr. Haveloc once more thrown in Aveline's way.