The Admiral's Daughter

by Margaret Stuart Lane

Roger ran his hand over his head with the old, rueful expression.

'I know,' he said. 'And I shall grow bald all round it, and it will stand up so to the end. I knew a sailor's who stood up, harder than mine. But never mind my hair, Mawfy. Let me look at you again.'

Marion turned away in silence, and they walked along a few yards and then sat down on the rocky ledge. Soft airs circled the headland; sea gulls flashed over the sapphire bar of the sea. The sunlight, glancing over the cliff, fell on the gold and black heads, on the fair face and the dark face, on the slender fingers held in the firm, brown hand. Out in the copses the spring song joyously rang again.

Sumer is a comen in,

Loud sing cuccu.

Groweth seed and bloweth mead

And springeth the wood nu.

Sing cuccu.

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADMIRAL'S DAUGHTER ***