“So do I; I meant to stay, but—but my guardian came with me and spoiled all my plans.”
“’Ee gardeen means ’ee well, dearie. ’Ee mustn’t rebel against his just authority.”
“Good-by, dee-ar Granny Lindsay.”
“Good-by, since ’ee must go. The good Lord keep ’ee, dearie.”
And so Gloria left the cottage, and walked rapidly down to the boat, where she found her guardian and the young fisherman waiting for her.
She entered and seated herself in the stern.
David Lindsay took up the oars and rowed quickly to the boat-house, which they reached in a few minutes.
Colonel de Crespigney handed his ward to the steps, and with a cool—“Thanks. Good-day,” to the young boatman, led her up the stairs and through to the other side of the wall.
“I wish, uncle dear, that you would leave the key in the lock always. It makes the place feel like a prison to have the boat-house, which is the only gateway and passage through the sea-wall, locked up all the time.”
“I will do anything you wish, my dear Gloria. You have only to make your will known and it shall be obeyed,” replied the colonel.