Another two days, and it is the eve of their leaving Torquay. They have all gone down to the rocks. Frank, Kate, and Captain Bradshaw, are engaged in assisting Charley to hunt for small crabs. Alice Heathcote and Arthur Prescott are sitting a little apart.
“Of course we shall see a great deal of you in London, Mr. Prescott? Frank and Katie are going to stay with uncle till they find a house to suit them.”
“I will come as often as I can, Miss Heathcote; but I must go back in earnest to work now. I have been having a long holiday.”
“It has been a pleasant one, has it not?” Alice asked shyly.
“Very pleasant—too pleasant—I shall have hard work to put it out of my head, and to settle down to work again in my chambers.”
“I have been thinking, Mr. Prescott, that now we have settled into our old friendly terms I must go back to my girl’s habit and drop the Mister. Uncle, and Frank, and Katie, and every one call you so; so in future I shall say Prescott.”
Alice spoke jestingly, but she coloured.
“Thank you very much, Miss Heathcote—thank you very much. But you are mistaken, Kate calls me Arthur.”
Alice hesitated. This time the colour flooded her whole face, and she said in a very low voice—
“But you call her by her Christian name. I cannot call you Arthur, unless you call me Alice.”