'Yes, she would!' exclaimed Jack. 'I've got some ugly faults, and she'd rather see me without them: wouldn't you, Mother?'
'Have you faults?' asked Estelle, in such an incredulous tone that both her listeners laughed.
'He's getting the better of them by degrees,' answered Mrs. Wright, suddenly becoming grave, as if some thought troubled her.
They had now reached the end of the path, and, turning round by a group of pine-trees which grew at the foot of the hill, came out upon the sandy beach. Oh, what a sight for the enchanted eyes of the little girl who had been a close prisoner for so long!
The sun was shining in a sky flecked with soft, fleecy clouds. Before them was the rippling, dancing sea. Far in the hazy distance the grey smoke of a passing steamer could be seen, while white-winged boats or brown-sailed fishing smacks dotted the wide bay. Estelle's eyes were full of tears as she uttered exclamations of delight and surprise.
'How lovely! How lovely! Are we going to sit on the beach?'
'Better than that, Missie,' replied Jack, marching down the pebbly slope with long, easy strides. 'Don't you see the skiff down there on the sands? It's a trip in her you will have, where you will get fresh air, with nothing to tire you.'
'Dear Jack! How delicious! Are you not very happy, Goody?'
'I am if you are, dearie. But if you go and get excited, you will have to come back. It will never do to have you ill again.'
Declaring she was not excited, only happy, Estelle clung to Jack as to a tower of strength against any return. He laughed.