“I don’t know what you mean, Miss Glo’.”
The little creature was not disposed to take airs on herself; so she kindly explained to the old man what she intended to do with the trunk, adding truthfully:
“I told Uncle Marcel, and he did not object.”
Old Laban then shouldered the trunk and followed his little mistress down the stairs, out of the front door, and so down to the end of the promontory, through the breach in the old sea-wall, and finally to a dilapidated little boat-house, where she directed him to place it.
“It will be safe there until the morning and then I can give it to David Lindsay, and he can carry it away in his boat.”
The sun had set half an hour before, and it was growing dark, so little Glo’ and her sable companion hurried from the shore back to the house.
“Saturday and Sunday! I have only got two days to be with Uncle Marcel and David Lindsay,” said little Glo’ to herself when she awoke the next morning.
And to make the most of her time, she hurried out of bed, dressed herself quickly, and ran down stairs.
Her aunt and uncle had not yet appeared, so she said to the cook:
“Just give me a cup of milk and a biscuit,’Phia, and I will eat my breakfast and go. It is my last day but one at home, and I must make the most of it.”