They were tramping home along the crackling causeway of dried seaweed and the jetsam in which of old they had sought for treasure, and chattering merrily as they went.
"Kattie's getting as pretty as a--as a----" stumbled Jim after a comparison equal to the subject.
"Wild-rose," suggested Gracie.
"Sweet-pea," said Jack.
"I was thinking of something with wings," said Jim, "but I don't quite know----"
"Peacock," said Jack.
"No, nor a seagull. Their eyes are cold, and Kattie's aren't."
"You think she'll fly away?" laughed Gracie. "You think she looks flighty? That was the red ribbons in her hair. She must have expected you, Jim."
"They were very pretty, but I liked her best with it all flying loose as it used to be."
"She's getting too big for that, but she certainly has a taste for colours."