“Why, Reginald Fairfax; he's staying with us while his father and mother are in Europe. The poor little fellow broke his leg last summer, and Sister Julia is here too, to take care of him, but he's almost well now. I wish you knew Sister Julia. She comes from one of the great hospitals in New York, and she is the loveliest person you ever saw.”
“Well, I should say I did know her,” answered the minister. “She goes to my church in town, and so do Mr. and Mrs. Fairfax; and Regie and I are the best of friends.”
“Why, are you Mr. Vale?” queried Nan, astonished, for the name of the young minister had often been on Regie's lips.
“Yes, I am,” he answered, laughing, as though he must own up to the truth.
“But what are you doing here?”
“Well, I'll tell you. Do you see that red-tiled cottage yonder?” pointing down the beach.
“Do you mean Mr. Avery's?” for Nan knew the name of every resident in the neighbourhood of Moorlow.
“Yes; Mr. Avery is a friend of mine, and stays down here, you know, quite late into the fall, so he asked me to bring my sister, who is quite an invalid, to his cottage, thinking the change would do her good. So here we are; we came this morning, but I am obliged to go back to the city again this afternoon.”
“Oh, dear! I'm sorry for that,” said Nan, regretfully, “I would so much have liked to hear you preach.”
“Well, that is very kind of you. Perhaps you can some time, when you come to New York to visit Regie. By the way, where is he?”