CHAPTER XXII.
“OUR FATHER” IS BEST.
Pauline and Verena found Miss Tredgold waiting for them. They went into the shop, which was quite one of the best shops in the High Street. There Miss Tredgold asked to see hats, and presently the two girls and their aunt were absorbed in the fascinating occupation of trying on new headgear. Miss Tredgold was buying a very pretty hat for herself also. It was to be trimmed with lace and feathers, and Verena had a momentary sense of disappointment that she was to have nothing so gay to wear on her own head. The attendant who was serving them made a sudden remark.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, “this little brown hat trimmed with velvet will exactly suit the dark young lady.” Here she looked at Pauline. “And I should venture to suggest a very little cream-colored lace introduced in front. The autumn is coming on, and the young lady will find this hat very suitable when the weather changes.”
“Well, the weather seems inclined to remain fine,” said Miss Tredgold, glancing out of the window, where a very blue sky met her gaze. There were heavy white clouds, however, drifting quickly across the sky, and the young shop attendant said:
“I hear that there’s a storm expected. And anyhow it is high-tide to-night. The tide will come up and quite cover the White Bay this evening. It is always more or less dangerous there, but it is specially dangerous to-day. I never like these high-tides; children and nursemaids are so apt to forget all about them.”
Miss Tredgold muttered something conventional. Pauline suddenly sat down on a chair.
“How white you are, dear!” said Miss Tredgold. “Would you oblige me,” she added, turning to the attendant, “by bringing this young lady a glass of water?”
But Pauline had already recovered herself.
“Please don’t,” she said. “I want to go out. I want to get the air. Don’t—don’t keep me.”