"Judy, Judy," he said, as he came up to her, "I knew I should find you."
She looked at him with wide eyes. "Where—where did you come from," she whispered, while her white hands fluttered across his coat sleeve as if to see that he was real.
There was sympathy and tenderness in his boyish face, but seeing her condition, he spoke cheerfully. "I came down to The Breakers after Tommy. His mother was ill, and his father had to stay with her, so they sent me. And when I got there I found Anne and—and—" he checked himself hurriedly, "I found Anne almost frantic because you had gone, and then when she found your note I started out, for I knew I should find you, Judy. I knew I should sail straight to you."
For one little moment as they stood together in the moonlight, he looked down at her with the eyes of the lover he was to be, but as yet they were only boy and girl and the moment passed.
"Where's Tommy?" asked Launcelot, coming out of his dream.
He was answered by a shout as Tommy came plunging over the sand.
"Why didn't you wake me, Judy?" he complained, bitterly, "when you first saw the boat."
"Stop that," commanded Launcelot. "Why weren't you keeping watch?
What kind of sailor do you call yourself, Tommy?"
"Oh, well," Tommy excused, "I was sleepy."
"And so you let a girl watch," was Launcelot's hard way of putting it, and Tommy's eyes shifted.