“I’se a lady now,” she said, smiling her prettiest as she surveyed herself in the glass.
Ah! she did not know yet that it takes more than dress to make a lady.
Barclay Stuart looked at her with real admiration; but I think the boy after all would have preferred to have seen her on the sandy beach at Fisherton, in her bare feet, and with basket and fishing bag, ready to accompany him to the foot of the wild cliffs.
The Grebe was ready for sea once more, and the children’s holiday, which had really in one way been idyllic, was at an end.
Softly blew the southern wind, and light and gentle were the sparkling wavelets as the sails of the Grebe were once more shaken out, and she went dancing and curtseying over the sea, bound for the shores of bonnie Devon.
One long day and night at sea—a happy day and night the children were never likely to forget—and they once more made Fisherton Bay and its tiny pier.
And happy, too, was the meeting ’twixt the parents and the lost children! I can’t describe that.
“Oh,” said old Norton, “I knew they would be safe, because somehow He"—Norton’s finger pointed to the blue sky—“He always hears our prayers like, that is, mother’s and mine.”
But the children had many more cruises in the Grebe after this, though they did not go quite so far to sea.
Their parents had the greatest faith in Antonio, and in Pandoo also.