“No, silly; this dress is ever so cool and nice.”
The dog went bounding on in front, barking and baying; the children followed, hand in hand as usual, and, as usual, singing.
They were so happy. Oh, would that happiness would ever last!
When Johnnie led his cousin into the breakfast tent, Father Fitzroy jumped up.
“By Jupiter, Peggy McQueen!” he cried, “you’re a genius. You look somewhat damp, else, ’pon my honour, I’d take you in my arms and kiss you. But, Johnnie, you may do so.”
But the saucy little sea-goddess wheeled round, lowered her trident to the defensive, and repeated some lines from one of her favourite dramas.
“Come not near me, sirrah. Advance but one step and you have looked your last on yonder sun. Seek to molest me, thou craven coward, and thy life-blood dyes the heather!”
“Sit down, my dearie, sit down,” said Molly; “are ye sure ye won’t catch cold in them cloes?”
“I’m going off to write a song. Now, at once.” This from Fitzroy. “The music and words are ringing in my head even now—‘The Seaweed Queen'—and you shall sing it to-night, my damp little darling. Molly, keep my coffee hot.”
This evening was Peggy’s benefit, and the “house” was even more crowded than ever. The same performance was gone through, and ‘The Seaweed Queen’ was voted the greatest success of the season.