“It makes me feel as though somebody were watching us,” she said. “Doesn’t it seem queer to think that while we are all asleep, the life savers patrol the beach, taking care of things. Grandfather’s a sort of a coast patrol. He’s on the retired list, Rear-Admiral Robert L. Page, you know. He cannot go to sea any more on active duty, but he’s our coast patrol, and he sees that all wrecks are looked after, and relief sent. I think he’d make a good one.”
“You don’t mean that really, do you, Polly?” Isabel never could catch a figure of speech until it had been fully explained to her. But Polly only smiled and straightening up she started to sing, her full, young soprano voice floating out clearly on the still night air.
“Sunset, and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar
When I put out to sea.”
Softly the other girls came from the inner room, and joined in the old, sweet words.
“But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep