'Nobody cares about what I like,' she said to herself disconsolately.
Perhaps she would not have thought so if she had heard what her mother and Rosalys were talking about later that afternoon.
CHAPTER VII
ON THE SEASHORE
| 'The sands of the sea stretch far and fine, |
| The rocks start out of them sharp and slim.' |
| A Legend of the Sea. |
'Oh dear,' exclaimed Mrs. Vane one morning at breakfast two or three days after the children's walk in to Seacove. Everybody looked up—the two girls and Rough were at table with their father and mother. Mrs. Vane had just opened and begun to read a letter. What could be the matter?
'It is from Miss Millet,' she said; 'her sister's children have got scarlet fever, and she has got a bad sore throat herself from nursing them. They had no idea what it was at first,' she went on reading from the letter; 'but of course she cannot come back to us for ever so long on account of the infection.'
'Poor Miss Millet,' said Rosalys.