"Oh, Martine, how absurd you are; I never heard you talk so pompously before."
"This is the effect of a few hours spent with an eloquent guide, philosopher, and friend. Poor Amy is under the spell now; he seems to be teaching her geology."
Looking in the direction of the spot where they had left Mrs. Redmond and Amy, Priscilla saw that Mr. Knight was pointing at the stones with his walking-stick, as if they were diagrams on a blackboard.
"He is probably explaining the rock formation," said Priscilla, solemnly. "My guidebook says that the region has great geological interest."
"Then let us go off by ourselves somewhere, for if he gets the chance he will try to teach us all he knows, and really, I could not stand any more instruction to-day. Come, Prissie."
At first Priscilla hesitated.
"Do come; we'll have such a good chance to study those rocks and crags by ourselves."
"I'd rather wait for the others, but still—"
"That's a good girl;" and, half dragging Priscilla by the arm, Martine set off rapidly toward the bold cliffs that promised them more entertainment than they had had that afternoon.
"There are sure to be shells," said Martine, "and perhaps curious seaweeds in some of the little pools. The tide is so high that undoubtedly there are many strange things washed up here."