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 SANDPEEP
 
 'Please excuse me, sir.' I interrupted, 'she isn't 'your 
 wife ! ' " Fruntispiece
 
 SANDPEEP 
 
 BY 
 
 SARA E. BOGGS 
 
 "He that writes, 
 
 Or makes a (east, more certainly invites 
 His judges than his friends. There's not a guest 
 But will find something wanting, or ill-drest." 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY MAY BARTLETT 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 
 
 1906
 
 Copyright, 1906, 
 BY LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY. 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Published April 1906 
 
 8. J. PAKKHILL A Co., BOSTON, U. 8. A.
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " ' PLEASE EXCUSE ME, SIR,' I INTER- 
 
 RUPTED, ' SHE ISN'T YOUR WIFE ! ' " Frontispiece 
 
 "THE TIDE WAS OUT, AND GEOFFREY 
 WAS DELIGHTED WITH THE POOLS 
 AMONG THE ROCKS." ..... Page 65 
 
 2134436 
 
 'WELL, JUST CAN'T THE STRANGEST 
 
 THINGS HAPPEN ! " ..... " l62 
 
 "WELL DONE, ma petite LINA!'" . " 238
 
 SANDPEEP 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 IT puzzled me so to know what Mr. Merion 
 wrote about every day, in the little blank- book 
 he always carried in the breast-pocket of his 
 coat, that I asked him once, when I just couldn't 
 stand not to know any longer. He very kindly 
 told me he was keeping a diary, which is writing 
 down everything one cares to remember. I 
 thought it a pretty good idea; but, as I could 
 easily keep in my mind the very few things worth 
 remembering that happened to me, then, I did 
 not think I should care to keep a diary. But I 
 have changed my mind. I bought a little blank- 
 book at the Headlands store, with my blueberry 
 money, and I am going to write in it everything 
 that happens. It will seem like telling secrets to 
 a nice girl friend, who will never breathe them to 
 a soul; and when I am an old woman, like Aunt 
 Hit, how I shall enjoy reading what happened to 
 me when I was young! Miss Book will help me 
 to pass many long winter days and evenings, 
 when there are no flesh and blood folks to talk to,
 
 2 SANDPEEP 
 
 When I asked Mr. Merion, who is the kindest 
 gentleman and very best teacher, what he wrote 
 about in his diary, he let me read a page of it. 
 Afterward, I had to hunt through his dictionary 
 for the meaning of a good many of the words, 
 before I could clearly understand what I had 
 read. I wrote it down then, and copy it here, 
 because I think it is worth remembering. 
 
 "There is recompense, after all, in ill-luck. 
 The lingering fever which threatened to incapaci- 
 tate me for further brain- work if it did not 
 send me to the grave ! brought into my life a 
 most generous friend and patron ; and mere words 
 cannot express the gratitude I feel toward good 
 Dr. Parke for all that he has done for me. Not 
 the least of his many kindnesses was his sending 
 me to this blessed haven of rest away down 
 here at the extreme end of the world, where the 
 health-giving atmosphere will, I feel confident, 
 restore my lost strength and energy. That a 
 region so picturesque, a people so wholly ignorant 
 of the world and its ways, customs and speech so 
 unique, existed within a two days' journey of 
 home, I would not have believed " 
 
 I guess we longshore folks must be as ignorant 
 as Mr. Merion wrote in his diary, for he, and the 
 two or three other persons from his end of the 
 world I have seen, are very different from us. 
 
 "I have a tiny room- ' Mr. Merion wrote, 
 though I shouldn't call our spare-chamber "tiny"
 
 SANDPEEP 3 
 
 "in a fisher cottage, that contains only one 
 other, the kitchen, dining-room and parlor, all 
 in one. Where my hostess and her small niece 
 dispose of themselves at night, I cannot even sur- 
 mise " 
 
 If he had ever climbed up to the loft over the 
 kitchen and peeped into the closet where father 
 used to bunk, he would have found out where 
 I and aunt "disposed" of ourselves. But he 
 wasn't in the least given to peeking around. 
 
 " Everything in and about this miniature dwell- 
 ing," he wrote, "is sweet and clean, and smells 
 of the clover blooms in the pasture beyond my 
 window. The fare is of the simplest, but just 
 what I require, the doctor says, to build up 
 wasted tissues. There's a plenty of real milk, 
 fresh eggs and fish; but no 'bootcher's meat' 
 to quote my hostess's apology for the absence of 
 beef and mutton. 
 
 "This hostess of mine is a perfect example of 
 the down-east spinster, as I have always imagined 
 her angular, flat-chested, strident- voiced, but 
 eminently kind-hearted. The youngest member 
 of our small household is a girl in her teens, one 
 of my pupils, and a most persistent seeker after 
 information on all subjects. When her lips are 
 not asking questions, she bores them into you 
 with her dark, owl-eyes, which seem all the 
 darker because of her pale yellow hair the 
 yellow of the inner husks of green corn. The
 
 4 SANDPEEP 
 
 stipend of a teacher down here is barely enough 
 to pay for my simple lodging and board; but I 
 am devoutly thankful for even that little. Dr. 
 Parke assures me that a year, at most, of this 
 life will surely eradicate from my system all trace 
 of the fever, and that I shall be well enough to 
 go back to my work in two years " 
 
 Doctor Parke was right: Mr. Merion was well 
 enough to go back to his teaching in college just 
 eighteen months from the day he came to the 
 Cove, so weak he could hardly walk. 
 
 And what his coming here was to me! Truly 
 there was good for me, too, in his ill luck, for all 
 that I know I owe to him, while his board-money 
 helped aunt when she most needed it. 
 
 That he was sent to us as much for our good 
 as his own, I feel sure, for Dr. Parke has been our 
 kind friend ever since the time, years and years 
 ago, when he cruised with father along this coast 
 for a fortnight's fishing; and no one could have 
 been more kind than he was, while father lay sick 
 so long from the dreadful cold he caught the 
 stormy night he saved the crew of the vessel which 
 was wrecked on the ledges. 
 
 Father might have been living to-day if he had 
 not gone out to save those men. They would 
 surely have drowned but for him, for not another 
 of the Cove men believed that a boat could get to 
 the wreck, the sea was so terrible. But father 
 rowed out to the ledges in his dory, and he was
 
 SANDPEEP 5 
 
 just in time : the vessel was pounding to pieces on 
 the rocks, and the poor souls on board had given 
 up all hope. 
 
 It was a brave deed, everybody said. The gov- 
 ernment at Washington sent father a medal, with 
 his name, and what he had done, on one side 
 as if he needed anything to keep him in mind of 
 that most dreadful hour! The owners of the 
 vessel sent him, what I think a lot better, five 
 hundred of the silver "medals" which are good 
 to swap for the things a poor sick man needs 
 most. The five hundred dollars brought many 
 comforts for my dear brave father the long 
 months he lay ailing; and when he crossed the 
 river to that other and better world, I don't 
 know what would have become of me and aunt 
 if there hadn't been some of the money left. 
 Poor aunt fell sick the very day we laid father 
 to rest in the little burying-ground in the pas- 
 ture, and was clean out of her mind for months. 
 Father had been brother and son to her, she had 
 cared for and tended to him from the day he 
 was born, just as she has taken care of me all 
 my life; for my mother, too, like father's, went 
 away to the other world when I came into this 
 one. 
 
 So poor old aunt was sore-distressed, with only 
 me, a useless little girl, left to care for. 
 
 When the last of the useful silver "medals" 
 was gone, Mr. Merion came to board with us, and
 
 6 SANDPEEP 
 
 while he stopped here, we got along very com- 
 fortably. When he went back to the city, times 
 were not so good for a while, but aunt, who is 
 truly wonderful, though she hasn't any book- 
 learning at all, managed somehow to keep us 
 from starving until I grew strong enough to help 
 make a living. With Zemro to help me some- 
 times in stormy weather, like the good friend and 
 neighbor he is, and with Louine to pester him all 
 the time, too, I hadn't nearly such a hard time 
 as most folks would believe a girl had, who fished 
 and lobstered for her living. But I was power- 
 ful glad when 'Squire Higgins told me, last Sun- 
 day after meeting, that I was likely to get the 
 summer school here, and I made up my mind to 
 put to good use what Mr. Merion had taught me. 
 
 Good luck, like troubles, comes all in a bunch. 
 After I had heard about the school, along came 
 more good news, a chance to teach only one 
 scholar, instead of a whole schoolful, and for 
 better pay, too! I feel like shouting " Halle- 
 lujah!" I am so happy. 
 
 I heard Mr. Merion say once, that something 
 was an "epoch-marking event." Now, an event 
 which happened here once may also be called 
 " epoch-marking," for, afterward, we dated every- 
 thing from that day, as when father, or aunt, or 
 I would say: "Mack'rel hain't been 's scurse 's 
 they be now sence" or "Them hens hain't 
 laid so well sence" or "Blueb'ries hain't been
 
 SANDPEEP 7 
 
 so plenty sence that year them two city folks 
 stopped to our house all night." 
 
 It happened long ago, long before Mr. Merion 
 came to the Cove, when I was a tiny ignorant girl, 
 who believed that the world ended out where the 
 sea and the sky came together. But I remember 
 as plainly as if it had happened yesterday ; I can 
 even hear Aunt Hit's impatient words: 
 
 "My soul 'n' body! Sandpeep? Where be 
 you? There's them hens a-scratchin' up the 
 garding fur dear life, 'n' thet child nowheres in 
 sight!" 
 
 Of course I wasn't! I was snuggled com- 
 fortably in the clover, behind the clump of lilacs 
 in the front door-yard, reading for the hundredth 
 time my fairy story-book, wholly forgetting that 
 I had been sent to mind the hens. I jumped up 
 quickly enough when I heard aunt's voice: 
 
 "Oh, there you be," she called, " 'n' jes's I 
 cal'lated; readin' your story-book again 's ef 
 there wa'n't no sech destructible critters 's 
 fowels scratchin' up the garding. Heave a rock 
 at 'em, child ; 'n' shoo 'em clean 'crost the pastur' 
 pesky critters!" 
 
 How plainly, after all the years, I can still hear 
 her, and see her standing in the kitchen doorway, 
 one hand shading her poor weak eyes, the other 
 holding the long-handled spoon, with which she 
 had been stirring the vegetable Btew for supper. 
 
 Dear old aunt! If she is "angular and flat-
 
 8 SANDPEEP 
 
 chested and strident voiced," she is as good as 
 gold, too, and nothing could ever make her any- 
 thing but handsome in my eyes, not even the big 
 unsightly wen on her head, which Mr. Merion 
 once jokingly said, "augments her bump of 
 benevolence to a prominence that would astound 
 the student of craniology." 
 
 Mr. Merion always "book- talked," as Zem 
 calls it, as naturally as if he were a dictionary 
 dressed up in a man's clothes. 
 
 No, indeed, Aunt Hit can never be anything 
 but beautiful in my eyes, even though her face, 
 hands, arms, which are bare to the elbows, 
 whether she toils or rests, are brown and tough- 
 looking as leather. They tell, as does the out- 
 side of our old, unpainted house, of long years of 
 sun and wind, long years of hard work and use- 
 fulness. It's the inside of folks, as well as of 
 houses, that counts most. 
 
 "There now," called aunt, after I had shooed 
 the cackling hens from the garden and was 
 hurrying back to the lilacs, "don't you go to 
 readin' in your story-book again; I want you 
 should fetch a pail of water, 'n' then see ef the 
 sloop's hove in sight yit. Your father hed 
 ought to be in soon." 
 
 I fetched a pail of water from the well; then, 
 with a longing look toward my book, crossed the 
 door-yard to the gate, swinging back and forth in 
 the brisk wind which was sweeping up from the sea.
 
 SANDPEEP 9 
 
 The waves lapping the shingle were growing 
 heavier under the increasing wind and incoming 
 tide, and all signs agreed with father's bones, 
 which had told him that morning that a nor'- 
 easter was on the way. 
 
 Even while my eyes were searching the water 
 for a sight of the Keren, almost the entire sky 
 became overcast; only a narrow strip of blue 
 above Western Mountain remained to tell of the 
 earlier day's clearness. From this blue strip the 
 down-going sun sent parting rays which cast long 
 shadows in the door-yard, and in the pasture of 
 lilacs and alders and wind-blown firs. A cricket 
 cheep-cheep-cheeped under the wellstone; the 
 martins, from their clay nests under the eaves, 
 circled restlessly above the roof; hoarse crow- 
 calls from the woods on the further side of the 
 pasture mingled with the peculiar notes of the 
 pair of gulls that were hovering about the chan- 
 nel buoy. 
 
 Truly, it was an epoch-marking event, for it 
 fastened in my mind every single thing that hap- 
 pened that day. Clinging to the swinging gate, 
 the wind flapping my hair across my face and 
 twisting it about my neck, I sent my eyes a-search- 
 ing among the white-capped waves for the sloop 
 Keren, and, after a spell, I found her racing 
 before the gale like a porpoise. 
 
 "The Keren's comin'! " I called to aunt, who 
 had come to the door again.
 
 io SANDPEEP 
 
 "You certing it's your father?" she asked, 
 straining her eyes in vain for a sight of the sloop. 
 
 "Yes, I be 'n' she's skimmin' along like a 
 porpus," I answered proudly, for I was, and still 
 am, very proud of my namesake. 
 
 Aunt looked at the threatening clouds, then said 
 before turning to go back to the stove, "Don't 
 guess she'll git in, though, 'fore it storms." 
 
 Even as she spoke, large raindrops came pat- 
 tering down, making round, black spots on the 
 gray fence rails and the wellstone. I forgot all 
 about the sloop then; I dashed toward the lilac 
 bush, caught up my treasured story-book, and 
 with it wrapped in my skirt, ran into the kitchen, 
 just in time to escape a heavy downpour. 
 
 "Your father'll git wet," said aunt, when a 
 sudden gust sent the rain beating against the 
 window. 
 
 "'S ef he minded a wettin'," I returned with 
 scorn. "Him thet's soaked to the skin 'most 
 every day of his life." 
 
 "Salt water 'n' rain hain't the same," argued 
 aunt. "There ain't any harm to sea- water, but 
 rain-water's got in it rheumatiz 'n' influendzy, 
 'n' " 
 
 "Hoptoads 'n' wiggle worms," I cut in, but 
 with no intention of being saucy. 
 
 Just then the Keren, with swift-dropping sail 
 and jib, curved gracefully as a duck to her an- 
 chorage in the Cove, and shortly afterward father,
 
 SANDPEEP ii 
 
 covered with yellow oilskins from head to cow- 
 hide boots, swung across the dooryard and into 
 the kitchen. 
 
 "Wall, sister Mehitable, hope you hev rigged 
 up everything snug 'n' taut," he said, good- 
 humored as always. "This is goin' to be a 
 reg'lar old-fashioned nor'easter. It's blowin' a 
 gale already outside. Lucky I kerned them hake 
 over to the Haven yistiddy; shouldn't admire to 
 hev to do it this evenin', es I cal'lated." 
 
 He hung his dripping rain-coat and sou'wester 
 in the shed; then took off his boots and woolen 
 coat; and, in shirt-sleeves and stocking-feet, was 
 ready for supper, and the evening in the house. 
 
 Now, there is where Mr. Merion was so differ- 
 ent from our longshore men. He never would, 
 not even in the hottest weather, sit down to a 
 meal without his coat on; and he never took it 
 off, nor his boots, until he went into his own 
 room. I wonder if all the men at his end of the 
 world are like that ? After supper aunt sat down 
 in her low chair beside the stove, to add row after 
 row to the blue wool sock on her knitting needles; 
 and father, as always, busied himself with mend- 
 ing broken fish-lines. As he needed to have the 
 candle close to him, there wasn't light enough for 
 me to read, so I climbed up to the loft, where 
 aunt and I slept together. 
 
 I just loved the old cobwebby loft; for, when 
 cuddled on the floor beside the little window,-
 
 12 SANDPEEP 
 
 listening to the playing of my wind-harp, I could 
 forget everything else in this world but the wind- 
 music, and dream of the fairyland told about in 
 my story-book. 
 
 It was only a single waxed thread stretched 
 taut across the sill, with the sash raised just 
 enough to let in the air; but the music the wind 
 played on that thread was perfectly beautiful, 
 and I can't believe that the opera tunes Mr. 
 Merion used to tell me about, are as sweet as 
 those my harp used to play for me. 
 
 And that stormy evening I was listening to the 
 wind-music, dreaming of brave knights and 
 beautiful princesses; of terrible giants and won- 
 derful castles. I was far, far away in fairyland, 
 when a sudden gust hurled a loose brick from 
 the chimney to the roof. The noise brought me 
 back to Bunker's Cove and the dark loft, and I 
 heard father say: 
 
 "Thet was the loose brick in the chimbley I 
 hev been cal'latin' to fix all summer. Guess it 
 scart Sandpeep ef she hain't asleep." 
 
 "Jes' like's not she wouldn't hear it if she 
 wa'n't asleep," aunt answered. "The child 
 never hears, or sees anything when she's readin' 
 in her story-book, orlistenin' toherharpa-playin'. 
 Ever sence Dr. Parke guv her thet ridic'lus book, 
 'n ' showed her how to rig up a waxed thread in 
 the winder for the wind to play on, she's jes' like 
 she was bewitched."
 
 SANDPEEP 13 
 
 Father laughed, down under his bushy beard, 
 then said: 
 
 "Sho now, Mehitable, bewitched? 'n' you a 
 babtized Christian woman! There hain't any 
 witches left sence great-grandfather Winter- 
 botham helped emp'y the Britisher's tea into the 
 harbor down to Boston! No, sister, Sandpeep 
 hain't bewitched - ' his voice grew sad then 
 " she's like her mother was; Mandy was allus 
 fond of readin' books, 'n' singin' tunes." 
 
 "Yes," allowed aunt, "Sandpeep is pow'ful 
 like Mandy, only she don't take to useful ways 
 like her mother." 
 
 "Sandpeep's only a little gal, Hitty," father 
 said; "she hain't much more'n a baby. Plenty 
 of time yit for her to learn useful ways." 
 
 "I wa'n't no older when I hed to do all the 
 dish-washin' 'n' scrubbing 'n' lug you round, too, 
 Peleg Brenson! Sandpeep's eight year old." 
 
 Aunt must have dropped a stitch, which al- 
 ways vexes her so, else she would not have spoken 
 so crossly to father, who said thoughtfully: 
 
 "So she is, so she is, 'n' Mandy's been dead 
 eight year. How time doos fly, to be sure! 
 Wall," he added after a minute, "everybody 
 can't be born useful like you, sister. I know 
 you hed a hard time raisin' me, 'n' I'm pow'ful 
 'bleeged to you for it I'm sure I don't know how 
 me 'n' Sandpeep 'd git along 'thout you. Aunt 
 Hits don't grow on every bush!"
 
 I 4 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Guess it's 'bout's well they don't; shouldn't 
 admire to see a whol' passel of 'em growin' long 
 the side of the road!" said aunt with a laugh, 
 pleased as she always was when father praised 
 her. "Mind, Peleg, I hain't said's I want Sand- 
 peep should work like I hed to; there hain't no 
 call for her doin' it, long 's I'm spared. But she 
 hed ought to learn somethin', 'n' I don't believe 
 the child will ever be good for anything but 
 school- teachin'." 
 
 "Wall,- ' father spoke so slowly, I guess he 
 must have been testing a spliced line "school- 
 teachin' hain't sech a no- account trade for a 
 woman, 'n' I do say thet I'd ruther Sandpeep'd 
 be a school-teacher 'n - 
 
 A loud "Halloo!" outside the house interrupted 
 father, and made him exclaim in surprise: 
 
 "Now who kin thet ejit be, a-bellerin' like a 
 bull-calf out there, 'stid of comin' right in out of 
 the rain, I want to know!" 
 
 Always curious to see and hear everything, I 
 lay down on the floor, and with my eye at a knot- 
 hole I saw father open the door and, with the 
 candle held above his head, peer into the rainy 
 darkness. 
 
 "Thanks, we can see our way now," called the 
 voice which had hallooed, and. I noticed how 
 different it was from the voices I was used to 
 hearing. A few moments afterward a gentleman 
 and a young lady ran into the kitchen.
 
 SANDPEEP 15 
 
 I could see them plainly and for a minute I 
 really believed I was looking down at the valiant 
 Prince Avenal, and the beauteous Princess Alda- 
 bella, whom the prince had rescued from the 
 giant's castle they were so different from us 
 longshore folks. 
 
 Not even their soaking wet clothes made them 
 unbeautiful. I thought the lady's blue cloth 
 dress and little white cap, below which rain-drops 
 sparkled in her coal-black hair, perfectly elegant; 
 while the gentleman's clothes didn't look as if 
 they had been made for some other man as 
 father's always did, and Zemro's do now. 
 
 The lady wasn't nearly so tall as the gentle- 
 man but she looked older, for he hadn't any 
 beard, not even the little shadow which shows 
 sometimes under a grown-up boy's nose; and 
 while her eyes, coal-black like her hair, said 
 plainly as words: "What sort of strange place 
 is this we have dropped into?" his, which were 
 blue, with the brows above them drawn close 
 together, told as plainly that he was worried, or 
 vexed, or both. 
 
 "Wall," exclaimed father in surprise, which 
 wasn't to be wondered at, seeing that such vis- 
 itors had never before called, not even in the day- 
 time in fair weather. "Whar do you hail from, 
 I want to know, 'n' whar be you bound ? " 
 
 "We came from South Haven," the gentleman 
 answered, very shortly.
 
 16 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Come from South Haven? Then I cal'late 
 you belong to that dandy little vessil I see makin' 
 fur the Haven this mornin'?" 
 
 " We came to South Haven on the yacht 
 Oceana," explained our visitor, but his manner 
 was no more encouraging than before. 
 
 "Be you her capting?" father asked again, not 
 a bit put out by the short answers. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You must be soakin' wet?" 
 
 Instead of answering, the gentleman asked the 
 lady if she was very wet. 
 
 "Yes, and very cold chilly," she answered, 
 and she moved nearer to the stove. 
 
 "I wonder you wa'n't drownded ef you rowed 
 over from the Haven in this gale," father allowed. 
 "Ef you are cold, ma'am, we'll het up the stove, 
 'n' warm you." He hurried out to the shed for 
 wood and kindling, and aunt, who had been star- 
 ing wonderingly at the strangers, began to fuss 
 about the stove. 
 
 "Awfully sorry to give you so much trouble," 
 said the gentleman, when father came from the 
 shed with an armful of birch sticks. 
 
 "Sho! 'tain't a mite of trouble, capting," an- 
 swered father cheerfully. "We longshore folks 
 don't mind a little extry work like this. Mehitable, 
 hevn't you got some duds the lady could put on 
 'till her'n are dry ? Guess the capting kin manage 
 to get along with my meetin' close a spell."
 
 SANDPEEP 17 
 
 "Oh, thanks," hastily interrupted the "cap- 
 ting," "you are very kind, really, but I couldn't 
 think of troubling you." 
 
 But my dear, hospitable father was not to be 
 hindered from what he believed to be his duty. 
 He fetched his Sunday coat from the spare-room 
 closet: "Here, put this on, capting; you don't 
 want to ketch plural-pneumony, which you're 
 like to do ef you set around in wet close. You 
 may wear this coat V welcome. I hain't the 
 least mite scart of you're bustin' the seams!" 
 
 The stranger didn't laugh at this joking. He 
 took off his coat, without word or smile, and put 
 on father's, which hung in great folds from his 
 shoulders. Though he was tall as father, he 
 wasn't as broad; but his arms were longer and 
 the edge of the sleeves didn't come near his cuffs. 
 I guess if he had seen himself in the looking-glass, 
 he would have smiled, too, which the lady did for 
 a second. Clothes help a lot to make a body 
 look nice. 
 
 Aunt Hit, seeing how father had managed, 
 said to the lady: "Hedn't you ought to change 
 your close, too, ma'am? You're like to ketch 
 your death settin' 'round in your wet frock 'n' 
 petticuts." 
 
 "I thank you. You are very kind, madam," 
 answered the lady, not more inclined to change 
 her pretty frock for one of aunt's than her com- 
 panion had been to wear father's Sunday coat
 
 18 SANDPEEP 
 
 and I don't wonder! But her excuse was: "We 
 have not the time to wait here until my garments 
 would dry. We shall depart as soon as the rain 
 stops." 
 
 "You will have plenty of time, ma'am, an' to 
 spare," allowed father. "A nor'easter like this 
 sometimes lasts two or three days." 
 
 "Oh!" almost screamed the lady, and the 
 gentleman said a swear word ; at least, it sounded 
 like it. 
 
 "Yes, sir, 'n' ma'am," father assured them. 
 Then, seeing how really distressed they looked, 
 he added: "But this storm may let up to'rd 
 mornin' ef the wind hauls 'round to'rd the nor'- 
 west by midnight. But," and he said this with 
 decision, "fair weather 'r foul, ma'am, 'n' cap- 
 ting, you will hev to make up your minds to bide 
 here till mornin'; for, even ef it should stop 
 rainin' before midnight, which there ain't any 
 signs of it doin' now, the sea would be too rough 
 to row back to your vessil. / shouldn't admire 
 to take a small boat out in such a sea, capting, 
 'n' I cal'late I am about 's well acquainted along 
 this here coast 's you be seein' es I hev been a 
 croosin' along here for thirty year 'n' more. 
 Come to think of it," he added, with sudden 
 anxiety, "did you draw your dory well up onto 
 the beach when you kem ashore?" 
 
 "The sailors who rowed us over from the 
 yacht took the boat back," answered the captain.
 
 SANDPEEP 19 
 
 "An' where'd they land you?" asked father, 
 wondering. 
 
 "On a rocky point not far from here " 
 
 "Bulger's P'int," interrupted father, still more 
 surprised. "Ef you ree'ly landed on the p'int, 
 which I kin scursely believe, for it's dangerous 
 landin' there when the sea's calm, whar in the 
 name of Dan'l Webster hev you been a-croosin' 
 'round all this time?" 
 
 "Being strangers here," answered the captain, 
 shortly, and the wrinkle between his eyebrows 
 got deeper, "we did not know just where to 
 direct our steps, until we caught sight of the 
 lighted window of this house." 
 
 "Hm " father thought a moment before he 
 went on: "Wall, bein' here, you may as well make 
 up your minds to stop till to-morrow, 'n' " 
 
 "But" in great haste, and vexed, the cap- 
 tain was beginning, when father interrupted him, 
 jokingly. 
 
 "'Tain't a mite of use buttin', es the stunwall 
 remarked to the billygoat; you will jis' hev to 
 bide here 'till this storm's over. My house ain't 
 quite es big 'n' fine 's the Exchange Hotel to the 
 Headlands, but I cal'late we kin rig up some sort 
 of bunk for you 'n' the lady your wife, I 
 cal'late?" looking toward the stove, where the 
 lady was shivering with cold. 
 
 "No, the lady is not my wife," answered the 
 gentleman, adding after he had looked around
 
 20 SANDPEEP 
 
 the kitchen, "I am afraid we shall put you to a 
 great deal of inconvenience." 
 
 "You needn't be afraid you'll crowd us, cap- 
 ting," father told him. "We hev allus got room 
 for a stormstaid traveller Such accommodations 
 's we hev to offer, you're welcome to." 
 
 Then the captain I am not at all sure he 
 was a sea-faring man said something to the 
 lady in a language I had never heard before. 
 She looked very cross, then got up suddenly, and 
 said to aunt: 
 
 "Madam, if you will be good enough to show 
 me where I can spend the night, I will go to bed." 
 
 When "madam" had taken her into the spare- 
 chamber, father drew a chair in front of the 
 stove, sat down, tilted back, and rested his 
 stocking-feet on the stove shelf. 
 
 "May as well set down, too, capting," he said 
 to the gentleman, who was standing beside the 
 stove, looking as if he did not know what to do. 
 
 I was pretty tired and stiff with lying on the 
 rough board floor, but I would have endured any 
 discomfort rather than have missed what was 
 going on in the kitchen. I might have gone to 
 bed, and been comfortable, for I could have 
 heard every word through the wide cracks be- 
 tween the boards; but I wanted to see, as well. 
 So I lay still as a mouse, and by and by father 
 said: 
 
 "Pow'ful stormy eveninM"
 
 SANDPEEP 21 
 
 I guess the stranger didn't think he needed to 
 answer, with the howling gale and beating rain 
 to speak for him He sat straight and stiff as a 
 poker, as if he disdained trying to make himself 
 more comfortable by tilting back his chair like 
 father. 
 
 "Guess this night' 11 try the endurin' power of 
 many a vessil." 
 
 No reply. 
 
 "You certingly was lucky, capting, to come 
 ashore when you did; later, you'd like t' swamp 
 your boat 'n' mebbe drown'd yourself 'n' the 
 lady, too. Your sister, I cal'late?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You don't favor each other, either, come to 
 look square at you. You're sandy complected, 
 'n' she's brownette, es they call it." 
 
 Father rocked backward and forward several 
 times. "South Haven's a snug 'n' safe harbor in 
 a nor'east gale," he remarked. "Your skipper's 
 well enough acquainted with this part of the 
 coast to know that, I cal'late?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Mr. Merion would have called the stranger's 
 answers "monosyllabic." They were not cal- 
 culated to keep up a conversation; but father 
 didn't mind doing the talking for two. He 
 took a stick of kindling from the wood-box, 
 and whittled it to tiny shavings before he 
 spoke again.
 
 22 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Been croosin' 'round these parts long, cap- 
 ting?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Much of a crew aboard your vessil?" 
 
 Either the captain had not heard this question 
 or else he didn't know how many sailors there 
 were on board; he didn't answer. 
 
 "Was you caFlatin' to stop some time to the 
 Haven?" 
 
 The stranger shook his head. 
 
 Father stopped clicking the knife-blade by 
 opening and closing it, put the knife into his 
 pocket, clasped his hands back of his head, and 
 with his chair tilted as far back as was safe, 
 watched the firelight in the stove. Now and then 
 a furious gust would hurl down the flue, and send 
 long tongues of blue and yellow flame from be- 
 tween the bars of the grate, like fiery serpents. 
 After what seemed a long time, aunt came from 
 the spare-chamber with the lady's wet skirts over 
 her arm. She hung them on the cord stretched 
 along the chimney behind the stove, then said to 
 the stranger: 
 
 "The lady says she don't want anything to 
 eat. Mebbe you would like a cup of tea, capting, 
 or somethin'?" 
 
 "Thanks, no! We had luncheon before we 
 left the yacht." 
 
 Aunt stood a minute, as if she did not 
 know exactly what to do next, and then said
 
 SANDPEEP 23 
 
 to father in a low tone: "Shell you want 
 breakfast's airly 's usual, Peleg?" 
 
 "I d'no', 'm sure," looking at the stranger. 
 "Ef the mornin's clear, capting, shell you want 
 to make an airly start?" 
 
 "As early as will be necessary to catch the 
 steamer at the Headlands " 
 
 "The Lewiston?" interrupted father, as if he 
 believed he had not understood. 
 
 "Yes; she touches at the Headlands to- 
 morrow, doesn't she?" 
 
 "She doos. Be you goin' to Boston on the 
 steamboat?" 
 
 " Yes. I was told at South Haven that I should 
 find a man near the point where we landed who 
 would take us in a sailboat to the Headlands." 
 
 "Did you cal'late to sail to the Headlands 
 this evenin' ? " asked father, his voice express- 
 ing what he thought of the stranger's ignorance. 
 
 "It had not begun to rain when we left the 
 yacht," was the curt reply. "Have you got a 
 sailboat?" 
 
 "I hev." 
 
 "Then I dare say you can take us to the 
 Headlands if it clears by morning?" 
 
 "Dessay I could ef there's a breeze." 
 
 "In case there should not be a breeze, have 
 you a vehicle of any sort? We must get to the 
 Headlands in time for the steamer." He said 
 this with decision.
 
 24 SANDPEEP 
 
 "7 hain't got a vehicle, but I guess I could git 
 the loan of 'Squire Higgins's jigger 'n' yoke of 
 steers, though you could walk to the Head- 
 lands bout's quick's them steers 'd haul you. 
 Howsomedever," he made haste to add, noting 
 the stranger's vexed look, "ef you are sot on 
 gittin' to the Headlands for the Lewiston, I d'no' 
 but me 'n' Charles Henry Judson might kerry 
 you- 
 
 " Carry us?" interrupted the stranger, looking 
 puzzled. 
 
 " Certing kerry you in my dory. Guess me 
 'n' Charles Henry, 'n' two pairs of oars kin man- 
 age to put you 'n' the lady on board the Lewiston 
 ef there's no sailin' breeze." 
 
 "Pardon me, I did not understand," said the 
 stranger; and a smile for the first time showed 
 on his lips. It was like a sudden ray of sun- 
 light on the sea on a gray day. 
 
 "Sail, or row, you will hev to make an airly 
 start," allowed father. 
 
 "We can be ready any hour you think neces- 
 sary. And you shall be well paid for your 
 trouble." 
 
 "Thet's all right, capting guess we sha'n't 
 quarrel about the money part." Then to aunt: 
 "Ef it's a clear, or clearin', mornin', sister, 
 you'd better hev breakfast ready by five o'clock. 
 Thet ain't too airly fur you to git up, is it, 
 capting?"
 
 SANDPEEP 25 
 
 "Any hour you name, only be sure to let it be 
 early enough for us to catch the steamer." 
 
 "All right, capting! ef you 'n' your lady hain't 
 passengers aboard the Lewiston to-morrow, you 
 kin lay it to the weather, 'n' Providence, 'n' not 
 to Peleg Brenson, e-squire!" 
 
 When aunt came up to the loft I know how 
 she must have hated to climb the ladder, with the 
 strange gentleman sitting in the kitchen, but he 
 never once looked toward her I looked up 
 from the knot-hole to ask: 
 
 "Who be them folks, aunt?" 
 
 "I d'no', 'm sure; never see 'em afore. Act 
 like they was runnin' away." 
 
 "Who be they runnin' away from?" 
 
 "Their folks, to be sure." 
 
 "'N' why be they runnin' away?" 
 
 "To git married, child." 
 
 "Married? I shouldn't think that han'some 
 lady 'd want to marry such a cross-looking gen- 
 tleman." 
 
 "May be better 'n he looks, Sandpeep; you 
 can't allus tell from a toad's looks how fur he 
 kin jump. You better come along to your bed. 
 You'll git a stiff neck peekin' through thet hole." 
 
 What mattered a stiff neck when there was so 
 much to see and hear ? I laid down again on the 
 floor with my eye to the knot-hole. 
 
 For a long time father and his guest sat silent, 
 and I had fallen into a doze, when a sudden noise
 
 26 SANDPEEP 
 
 in the kitchen made me bright awake again. 
 Father had brought the front legs of his chair to 
 the floor with a thump, and was standing upright, 
 stretching himself, and yawning. 
 
 "Ef you don't mind settin' here by yourself, 
 capting," he said, "I'll turn in, es I shell 
 hev to be up 'fore daylight, to git the sloop, 
 or the dory whichever it's to be ready for 
 passengers." 
 
 "Yes no certainly " I think the cap- 
 tain must have been dozing too. "Pray don't 
 stay up on my account. If you don't object, I 
 will sit here a little longer." 
 
 "I hain't no objections to your settin' there all 
 night ef you're a mind to, capting. I'll fetch 
 you some kiver, 'n' a piller, 'n' when you git 
 tiyed settin' up, you kin lay down on this here 
 settle. Guess you kin manage to rest some." 
 
 "What the deuce is that noise?" suddenly in- 
 terrupted the stranger, when the gust of wind, 
 which flung a shower of snapping sparks from 
 the stove, played a long, sweet note on my harp. 
 "I have heard it several times." 
 
 "Ha-ha," chuckled father. "Thet's Sand- 
 peep's harp. Sandpeep's my little gal, 'n' her 
 harp's a thread stretched acrost the sill of the loft 
 winder, fur the wind to play on." 
 
 He went into his little closet-room, brought the 
 quilt and pillow from his own bed, and arranged 
 them on the settle.
 
 SANDPEEP 27 
 
 "There, capting now, I'll bid you a good- 
 night." 
 
 " Good-night, and thank you very much." 
 
 Believing that nothing more worth seeing and 
 hearing would happen, I was rising from the 
 floor, when a stir below caused me to drop 
 quickly back to the knot-hole. The door of the 
 spare-chamber was open, and the lady, with 
 aunt's blue calico meeting frock on she looked 
 as funny in it as the gentleman did in father's 
 coat was crossing the floor. 
 
 "I thought you had gone to bed," said the 
 gentleman, looking up at her, when she laid her 
 hand on his shoulder. "Yes, " answering her 
 whispered question, "they have all gone. You, 
 too, ought to be resting, for we shall have to be 
 up very early." She spoke again in a tone I could 
 not hear. 
 
 "Yes, it is," he answered, "but there is nothing 
 else we can do I can't control the tempest! 
 Could I have foreseen the result of our mad 
 frolic, as you rightly term it, we certainly would 
 not be here. You cannot blame me for the mis- 
 take those stupid sailors made, landing us at the 
 wrong place? I was quite as anxious as you 
 were to have the matter settled at once." 
 
 Again she spoke, and, as was very plain, with 
 great impatience. 
 
 "Angela!" he was angry, too "You shall 
 not accuse me of such a contemptible trick!
 
 28 SANDPEEP 
 
 You don't really believe I would deceive you so 
 brutally! But don't let us quarrel; go, and try 
 to sleep! Believe me, I will do what I can to get 
 you safely and honorably out of this mess." 
 "No," answering another question, "we are not 
 going back in the yacht with the rest Heaven 
 forbid! We will travel back in the steamer." 
 
 I could see that the lady was greatly excited. 
 She was very pale; the hands she kept clasping 
 and unclasping trembled so that her rings 
 sparkled and glistened like the stars on a frosty 
 night. 
 
 "No no!" answered the gentleman again, 
 and he spoke as if his patience had well-nigh 
 given out. "Why do you ask such an absurd 
 question ? I do not regret my promise only 
 what led to it. Believe me, Angela," his voice 
 grew kinder, but he did not take the hand half 
 extended toward him maybe he didn't see it 
 "I shall do what is best for you. Now, go to 
 bed, and try to sleep there is a bed in that 
 room, I suppose?" 
 
 She nodded yes, waited a minute as if to speak 
 again, then turned suddenly as if really vexed, 
 and went back into the spare-chamber. 
 
 I got up from the knot-hole, and, after closing 
 the window so that the "noise" of my harp 
 should not disturb the captain again, undressed 
 and crept into bed. Sometime in the middle of 
 the night I awoke from a dream so real that,
 
 SANDPEEP 29 
 
 even after my eyes were wide open, I thought I 
 still saw Prince Avenal riding on his snow-white 
 charger down a road that sparkled and glittered 
 in a shower of diamonds. I sat straight up in 
 bed, heedless that I was mussing the covers and 
 might waken Aunt Hit, and stared wonderingly 
 at the silvery streak of light which slanted up 
 from the floor to the rafter over my head. 
 
 The prince and the diamond shower had van- 
 ished, but the streak of light puzzled me until I 
 realized that it came through the knot-hole from 
 the kitchen. Then, remembering our visitors, I 
 slipped softly from the bed, and looked through 
 the knot-hole. The gentleman was still sitting 
 by the stove, just as when I had gone to bed. 
 His arms were folded. He looked as if he were 
 asleep, only that his eyes were wide open. 
 
 While I was looking, he got up suddenly, pressed 
 his hands hard against his forehead, and said in a 
 whisper that sounded as if he were choking: 
 
 "Oh father! father! will you ever forgive 
 me?" Then he dropped his arms to his sides 
 and walked softly to the window, where he rested 
 his head against the pane. 
 
 He looked so sore-distressed, I was sorry for 
 him, and wondered what he had done to make 
 him afraid his father would not forgive him. I 
 watched him for a long while, then shivering 
 with cold and hardly able to keep my eyes open, 
 I crept back to bed.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 r i *HE clatter of dishes in the kitchen woke me 
 at an early hour. The wind, as father had 
 allowed it might, had hauled 'round to the 
 nor'west and only out in the east heavy clouds 
 were still heaped high. Clouds in the east when 
 a west or a nor'west wind is blowing, don't hin- 
 der folks from starting on a journey, and I did 
 not waste time putting on my clothes. 
 
 "Where be they?" I asked aunt, before I was 
 quite down the ladder. 
 
 "He's somewheres out-doors," she answered, 
 slipping meal-coated slices of codfish into the 
 sputtering spider, "'n' she hain't up yit, I guess. 
 Your father told me not to wake her till breakfast 
 was ready, es there's plenty of wind to kerry 'em 
 to the Headlands ef they don't start till six." 
 
 I washed my face and combed my hair as 
 quickly as I had put on my clothes; then I ran 
 down to the shore, to ask questions of father; 
 but he was out in the sloop getting her ready for 
 his passengers. The wind had beaten down the 
 waves, and with my skirts held above my knees, 
 I waded into the water, singing at the very top 
 of my voice for the joy of living on such a beauti- 
 ful morning in such a beautiful world. 
 
 30
 
 SANDPEEP 31 
 
 "That is a very pretty song you're singing, 
 little maid." 
 
 Good king! but wasn't I scared to hear the 
 strange gentleman's voice and to see him stand- 
 ing on the shingle, looking straight at me. 
 
 "Where did you learn that pretty song?" he 
 asked, taking the cigarette from his lips to flick 
 the ashes from the end. As he did so, I saw a 
 greenish-yellow gleam like the light of a firefly in 
 the ring on his little finger. 
 
 "I d'no'," I answered, dreadfully shy; "I jes' 
 ketched it I guess." 
 
 " 'Jes' ketched it,' did you?" smiling, and 
 looking so different from the cross gentleman of 
 the evening before. "You 'ketch' everything 
 down here from fish to melodies, don't 
 you?" 
 
 This was the sort of talk I didn't understand, 
 so I made no reply, and he turned and walked 
 down the shore, against the wind, a gray 
 streamer of tobacco smoke trailing back over 
 his shoulder. 
 
 I looked after him, wondering if he would look 
 like the valiant Prince Avenal if he had on a 
 velvet cloak and plumed hat, and was riding on a 
 snow-white charger, and I had just decided that 
 he wouldn't, when he turned and came back. 
 
 The ten toes on my feet under the water 
 grubbed themselves into the sand that much of 
 me, anyhow, should hide from the keen gray-blue
 
 32 SANDPEEP 
 
 eyes looking straight at me again. He took from 
 the breast-pocket of his coat a note-book and 
 pencil, and said: 
 
 "Stand perfectly still just as you are for a 
 few minutes, little girl." 
 
 Of course I stood still! I could not have dis- 
 obeyed the commanding tone if I had wanted to. 
 I watched his hand with the firefly ring move 
 swiftly over the page of the open book. 
 
 "A most unusual combination," he mumbled, 
 with the cigarette at the corner of his lips, look- 
 ing at me through half-closed eyes and head 
 turned to one side. "A most unusual combi- 
 nation bronze-hued eyes; lashes and brows 
 almost black; hair, naples-yellow wish I had 
 colors here! Can you guess, you little Yankee," 
 he said aloud, "what I am doing?" 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 "I am drawing the picture of a mermaid." 
 
 "There hain't any really mermaids, father 
 says," I assured him. 
 
 "Oh, but there are. / know better than 
 father." This was spoken with such decision, 
 that, for the first time in my life, a doubt of 
 father crept into my mind. "Just you wait a 
 minute, and I'll show you a real mermaid. 
 Couldn't you sing that pretty song again while 
 you are waiting?" 
 
 Indeed, I couldn't! I could just drop my 
 head and grub my toes into the sand.
 
 SANDPEEP 33 
 
 " Oh, come, my dear how can I draw your 
 picture if you hide your face like that?" he said 
 seriously. "Look at me so I want my mer- 
 maid to have a face." 
 
 "I hain't no mermaid," I told him, put out 
 that he should think so. 
 
 "But I believe you are. I believe you have 
 your fish-tail hidden under the water, and that 
 you will swim away out to sea the minute I turn 
 my back!" 
 
 I looked at him wonderingly. I could hardly 
 believe him to be the same cross, sore-distressed 
 gentleman of the night before. He was like a 
 nice boy, smiling and teasing, and when I lifted 
 first one foot, then the other, from the water, and 
 asked: "Be them a tail?" his hearty laugh made 
 me forget my shyness, and I laughed with him. 
 
 "No, you funny midget, only two pretty little 
 brown feet! But I shall always believe you are a 
 really mermaid. Now come and take a look at 
 your likeness." 
 
 He didn't need to ask me a second time. I 
 waded quickly out of the water and, standing by 
 his side, looked at the picture he had drawn, 
 a little girl with big eyes and touseled hair, with 
 curved marks around her bare knees for waves. 
 
 "Well? How do you like it?" he asked, smil- 
 ing down at me. 
 
 Disappointment made me forget my bashful- 
 ness. I answered:
 
 34 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Tain't handsome." 
 
 "Not handsome?" He laughed, closed the 
 book, and put it into his pocket. "You minia- 
 ture woman! Even you are cursed with the 
 vanity of your sex. Here," - he took a quarter 
 from his pocket and held it toward me, "buy 
 some candy, and heal your wounded vanity." 
 
 Only half understanding, and because I had 
 never before been offered a gift of money, I made 
 no move to take the quarter. 
 
 "Take it," he said, and pressed it into my 
 hand. "You like candy, don't you?" 
 
 Yes, indeed, I liked candy; but there was 
 something I wanted a great deal more; so I 
 asked him, looking from the quarter in my 
 hand up into his smiling eyes, "Will this buy 
 a fiddlestring ? " 
 
 "A fiddlestring?" -I could see that he was 
 surprised "I dare say; but why do you want 
 to buy a fiddlestring? Do you play the fiddle?" 
 
 I remembered what he had said about my harp 
 and did not answer. 
 
 "Well, never mind, if you don't care to tell 
 me," he said then, and laid a second quarter on 
 the first. :< There, now you surely have enough 
 to buy a fiddlestring." 
 
 He did not hear me say "Thank you," for he 
 had turned and walked quickly toward the house. 
 The young lady had come to the door to look for 
 him.
 
 SANDPEEP 35 
 
 While they were eating breakfast, I gathered 
 some flowers, and handed them to the lady at 
 the gate when they were leaving. 
 
 "Flowers for me!" she said, and looked 
 pleased. "You give me flowers to-day? I thank 
 you many, many times. You bring me good 
 luck with your flowers, little gold-locks." 
 
 "Beautiful hair, hasn't she?" remarked the 
 gentleman, as she stooped to kiss me. "And 
 what a pair of eyes! Pity such charms should be 
 wasted on her kind." 
 
 "A pity, indeed!" agreed the lady, but she 
 tossed her head and looked angry. "'Her kind' 
 have no right to beauty, have they? Only ill- 
 looks are for humble folks. Here, little gold- 
 locks " she pulled off her glove, took a ring 
 from her finger and slipped it on mine "this 
 ring shall bring good luck to you. I give it to you 
 in exchange for the flowers you have given me on 
 my wedding-day. You understand? Yes?" 
 
 "Why, Angela!" - that the gentleman wasn't 
 pleased I could see plainly enough "you have 
 given her the moonstone." 
 
 "I know, I want her to have it," she answered, 
 very shortly. "I want 'her kind' to have some 
 good luck, too. You can buy me another like it." 
 
 She pushed past him and ran down to the 
 shore, where father was waiting with the dory. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, when father came back, 
 he said to aunt, while he was undressing for
 
 36 SANDPEEP 
 
 supper: "It's jes' 's you 'lowed, Mehitable; them 
 was runaways. 'Squire Willets merried them, 'n' 
 I was groomsman to the capting" - he chuckled 
 under his beard. "She was dretful sot on hevin' 
 a priest to splice 'em, 'n' wouldn't hear to hevin' 
 Elder Slocum. So, es there wa'n't no priest to 
 the Headlands, she hed to let 'Squire Willets tie 
 the knot 'n' I cal'late he tied it 'bout es tight 
 es any priest could hev done it, but she 'lowed 
 she'd hev a priest tie it over again when she got 
 to Boston. The Lewiston was ready to pull out 
 'fore the squire got done writin' the sutificut, 'n' 
 the bride ast me to take charge of it 'till she'd 
 send fur it. Though what she wants a sutificut 
 from the squire fur, when she's goin' to hev a 
 priest merry her over agin', I don' know 'm sure. 
 Howsomedever, I hain't no call to complain - 
 see what the capting guv me." He took a 
 bank-note from his wallet, and held it toward 
 aunt. 
 
 "For the land sakes, Peleg Brenson!" she ex- 
 claimed, in surprise. "Twenty dollar 'n' he 
 set up on a cheer the whol' endurin' night! 'N' 
 they didn't, either of them, eat anything fur 
 breakfast 'cept a biskit, 'n' a glass of milk." Then 
 a sudden fear made her add: "Jes' like's not 
 'tain't a good bill, Peleg." 
 
 "Yes 't be," father told her. "I hed it proved 
 to the store. Mr. Simpson offered to give me 
 silver fur it, but I caFlated I'd ruther keep it fur a
 
 SANDPEEP 37 
 
 while to look at. A body don't git a chance to 
 see such a handsome pictur only oncet in a great 
 while." He chuckled again, then went on to say: 
 "Jonadab Pung used to say a piece of po'try 
 'bout the wind bein' a pow'ful bad one thet 
 didn't blow no good to nobody - - 'n' it's true 's 
 preachin' ; Nahum Winner's schunner went ashore 
 on Cranb'ry last night, in the same gale thet 
 bio wed this greenback into my wallet." 
 
 "An' this handsome ring to my finger, 'n' two 
 quarters into my pocket," I piped out from be- 
 hind the stove, where I was devouring the stale 
 candy father had bought for me at the Headlands 
 store. 
 
 Yes, I remember everything; but, for fear that 
 I might forget, as the years roll by, I think it 
 is well to have it written down in my diary.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 IF I had needed anything to keep me in mind of 
 our visitors, the music of my harp made of 
 the fiddlestring I bought at the Headlands 
 store, and the pretty, shiny ring on my finger, 
 would have reminded me. For want of other 
 names I always called them "the finger-ring 
 lady," and "the fiddlestring gentleman"; and I 
 speak of them that way even yet; for I don't 
 remember ever having heard father say what 
 their names were, and he was the only one here 
 that knew. 
 
 Many and many a time, after father left us, 
 when I missed him so sorely I could hardly go 
 on living, the wind-music would soothe me and 
 help me to forget my sorrow. 
 
 Even yet, tall and old as I am, I like to sit 
 beside the loft window and listen to the harp 
 though the wind has to play on a waxed thread 
 now, for the fiddlestring wore out long ago. For 
 a long time the ring was too large for any one of 
 my fingers; and though I wrapped a lot of thread 
 around, aunt would not let me wear it for fear I 
 might lose it. Now, it fits my third finger, and 
 I wear it all the time, except on Saturdays, when 
 I do the scrubbing. When I put my hands into 
 
 38
 
 SANDPEEP 39 
 
 hot soapsuds I take it off, for I don't want the 
 shiny little rock to get dim. It does really look 
 like the moon behind a fleecy cloud, which I 
 guess is the reason it is called a " moonstone," 
 and not because, as aunt allows, it fell from the 
 sky, as shiny rocks do sometimes. 
 
 I like to believe that my little ring has brought 
 me good luck, as the lady said it would, though I 
 have had a good deal of sorrow and trouble, too. 
 But now everything looks bright. First came 
 the promise of the summer school, and then Dr. 
 Parke's letter telling me about the other good 
 chance. Aunt and I were frying doughnuts this 
 morning; I was rolling out and cutting the 
 doughnuts, and aunt was slipping them into the 
 bubbling lard, when she said: 
 
 "There comes Zemro, 'crost the pastur'. Jes' 
 like 's not Louine's been took again, 'n' he's been 
 to fetch some med'cin' fur her." 
 
 Though one of the very best of school-teachers, 
 who always talked like a grammar and a dic- 
 tionary, boarded with us so long, and I myself 
 have tried hard to teach her how to speak prop- 
 erly, aunt will not learn. She says she's too old 
 to learn to "book-talk" like Mr. Merion and me. 
 
 "Hello, Zem!" I called to him, when he 
 stepped on the stoop; "where you bound?" 
 
 "To home, now. I been to the Headlands fur 
 some drops fur Louine, 'n' the postmaster wanted 
 I should fetch this here letter along to "you,"
 
 40 SANDPEEP 
 
 When I saw Dr. Parkc's handwriting, I knew 
 that my right ear hadn't been ringing all morn- 
 ing for nothing. 
 
 "Hain't you comin' in to rest you?" aunt asked 
 Zem, while I opened the letter. 
 
 "Not this mornin', hain't got time." 
 
 "Louine hain't hed another spell, hes she?" 
 
 "She hedn't when I left home; but she 'lowed 
 she might hev one, 'n' wanted I should come 
 back soon's I could." 
 
 "Aunt Mehitable Brenson!" I exclaimed, 
 waving the doctor's letter about my head, as we 
 do the star-spangled banner on the Fourth of 
 July. "Dr. Parke's cousin, Miss Warrington, has 
 come from New York to live at Surgecliff Lodge, 
 and wants a teacher for her little nephew, and I 
 am to go to see her right off. The doctor thinks 
 I will suit her, and he says that if she will give 
 me the chance, it will pay me more than I should 
 get for teaching the summer school." 
 
 "Then you jes' leave them doughnuts, J n' go 
 'n' dress you, 'n' go right along to the Lodge," 
 said aunt, almost as excited as I was; and Zemro 
 allowed that if there was a breeze he could carry 
 me in the sloop. But there wasn't; not even a 
 cat's paw rippled the water, let alone a sailing 
 breeze. So I told him I could walk to the Lodge 
 easily enough, and I went out to the shed to wash 
 the dough from my hands, I was passing through 
 the kitchen "to the closet-room when Zemro said:
 
 SANDPEEP 41 
 
 "I guess I'll walk a little ways with you, Sand- 
 peep, then the road won't 'pear so long!" 
 
 I answered, "All right, I'll be glad to have 
 company," 
 
 "Thought Louine was in a hurry fur her 
 drops?" I heard aunt say, when I was in the 
 closet-room; the cracks between the boards of 
 the partition are so wide I could hear every word 
 that was said in the kitchen. 
 
 "Guess she'll keep a little whfle longer 'thout 
 *em," Zemro answered, plumping himself down 
 on a chair, as if he were a bag of wheat. 
 
 "Guess she hain't never 's poorly 's she thinks 
 she be." I had to laugh when aunt said that; it 
 is just what I think about Louine and her spells. 
 "Ef she didn't hev no one to be everlastin'ly 
 fetchin* med'cin' fur her, don't guess she would 
 hev spells 's often 's she doos. There's a lot in 
 folks hevin* to do 'thout things." 
 
 "Yes, there be," Zemro, I was glad to hear, 
 agreed. "Sister most times fetches on a spell jes' 
 worritin' tjout gittin' one. She don't seem to hev 
 a mite of will-power." 
 
 "She's too much want-power," aunt allowed, 
 briskly passing the rolling-pin over the dough on 
 the bake-board; "Louine's allus wantin' to do 
 what she hedn't ought, like when she traipses 
 over the mounting the whol' endurin' day a-plum- 
 min', when blueb'ries 's thet scurse she can't pick 
 enough fur a pie. But, there! I hain't no call to
 
 42 SANDPEEP 
 
 jedge my neighbors; I hed jes' ought to be thank- 
 ful 't Sandpeep ain't like some folks." 
 
 "Sandpeep's differunt from most girls," al- 
 lowed Zemro; neither he nor aunt seemed to 
 remember that I could hear every word. 
 
 "Yes, she be," aunt agreed, "'n' Sandpeep's 
 pow'ful smart, too." 
 
 "Yes, she be; I allus 'lowed es Sandpeep was 
 the smartest girl 'round here. Don't you mind, 
 Aunt Hit, how I used to say so when you'd 'low 
 she wouldn't never learn useful ways, 'n' wouldn't 
 never be fit fur nawthin' but teachin' school?" 
 
 Zem does like to plague aunt when he gets the 
 chance. 
 
 "Yes yes Mr. Zemro Haskill, I do mind 't 
 I said them very words, 'n' hain't they come 
 true? Hain't Sandpeep got the chance to teach 
 school, 'n' the little Lodge boy, too, I want to 
 know?" 
 
 "You don't know yet, aunt, whether I am 
 going to get the chance to teach the Lodge boy," 
 I said, stepping into the kitchen, all dressed up 
 in my new blue calico frock, which is real hand- 
 some, though it doesn't fit as I should like. 
 "You mustn't mind what Zemro says; can't 
 you see that he only talks that way to plague 
 you? I'm going to take a few of these dough- 
 nuts to eat on the way, as I sha'n't be home 
 for dinner," I added, and hunted up a paper 
 bag.
 
 SANDPEEP 43 
 
 "Like's not Miss Warrin'ton '11 ast you to 
 stop to dinner," suggested aunt, looking me over 
 with a pleased expression on her wrinkled face. 
 
 "Jonadab Pung says them city folks to the 
 Headlands hev dinner 's late 's seven o'clock in 
 the evenin'," observed Zemro, rising, and pulling 
 his hat forward on his head. He never thinks of 
 taking it off when he comes into the house, as 
 Mr. Merion always did. 
 
 "Dinner 't seven o'clock in the evenin'!" re- 
 peated aunt, scornfully. " Jonadab Fung's a 
 born ejet! 'S ef any baptized Christians et din- 
 ner 't bedtime ! When 'd they hev supper, I 
 should like to know? Nex' mornin'?" 
 
 "I d'no', 'm sure," answered Zemro, hunch- 
 ing his shoulders. "All 't I know 's what Jona- 
 dab told me. Come along, Sandpeep, ef you're 
 a-goin'." 
 
 "Listen!" I stopped on the stoop; "I hear a 
 team on the wood-road." 
 
 "Guess it's the hen man," allowed aunt, who 
 had come to the door to see me off. "I see him 
 goin' up Purse's hill yistiddy." 
 
 "If it is the hen-cart, and it's going to the 
 Headlands, I can ride as far as the Lodge," I 
 said, and without asking Zemro to excuse me I 
 ran up the pasture-road, toward the woods. 
 
 I soon caught up with the large coop on wheels. 
 The hen peddler was droning a hymn tune, but 
 stopped, and said, "Whoa! Whoa!" several
 
 44 SANDPEEP 
 
 times, when I spoke to him, as if his old mare 
 weren't only too glad to stop at the first whoa. 
 
 "Be I goin' to the Headlands, 'n' will I let 
 you ride with me?" he repeated. "Certingly. 
 There's allus room on this here veehicle fur one 
 more passenger. Jes' climb right up here 'long- 
 side of me, onless you'd ruther ride inside with 
 the fowels!" 
 
 He laughed at his joke, moved to the end of 
 the narrow board in front of the coop, and I 
 climbed over the wheel to his side. When the 
 cart was bumping along again, he asked me if I 
 was bound for the Headlands. 
 
 "Only as far as SurgeclifE Lodge," I informed 
 him. 
 
 "To the Lodge, be you? Thet's where I'm 
 bound fur fust; hev a half dozen hens fur there. 
 You caP latin' to stop to the Lodge?" 
 
 "I don't know yet; maybe I shall." 
 
 "Goin' to try fur a chance, most likely?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 We jolted along for a spell; then the hen man 
 remarked : 
 
 "She's a pow'ful smart old lady." 
 
 "Who is?" I asked. 
 
 "Miss Warrin'ton to the Lodge." 
 
 "Is she old?" I was surprised, though I don't 
 know why, for I hadn't thought about the lady's 
 age. 
 
 "Wall " bending forward to brush with his
 
 SANDPEEP 45 
 
 alder switch a tormenting fly from the old mare's 
 neck, "she hain't 's old 's I be hain't wrinkled 
 a mite, but her hair's most's gray's mine 
 spry 's a young gal, too." 
 
 "Have you seen the little boy?" I inquired. 
 
 "The little shaver 't can't talk English?" 
 
 "I mean Miss Warrington's little nephew," I 
 explained. 
 
 "Thet's him. The gentleman 't buys all the 
 things fur the kitchen I don't know what his 
 name is, he hain't never told me says the little 
 boy won't talk nawthin' but French. Gurus, 
 ain't it, such a little shaver knowin' how to talk 
 French?" 
 
 I did not answer. I was too busy thinking - 
 asking myself how I, who didn't know a word 
 of French, could hope to teach a scholar that 
 wouldn't talk English. For a minute I felt as if 
 I ought to ask the hen man to stop the cart 
 as if I ought to go right back home, and be glad 
 I had the promise of the summer school. 
 
 Then I said to myself, "Don't be a goose, 
 Keren Brenson; if Dr. Parke hadn't known very 
 well you could teach the Lodge boy, he would not 
 have asked you to call to see Miss Warrington." 
 So I sat still on the narrow board as still as 
 I could, that is, for every jolt of the cart nearly 
 pitched me forward on to the old mare and 
 rode on to the Lodge. I am truly thankful now 
 that I did!
 
 46 SANDPEEP 
 
 Though I have often seen the big house on the 
 cliff when sailing by in the sloop, and have looked 
 through the bars of the iron gates when walking 
 past the place I used to pretend that a giant 
 lived there I had never been near enough to 
 see what a really elegant house it is. 
 
 Miss Warrington's brother, who built it, lived 
 in it only one summer; then for years it was 
 kept shut up, and nobody was allowed to go in- 
 side the gates. Now they stood wide open, and 
 oh! how I hoped and prayed, as the cart rolled 
 between them and up the broad, smooth road 
 no more bumping and jolting now ! that I 
 might suit Miss Warrington, even if I didn't 
 know a thing about French. 
 
 All the stories I had heard about the rich city 
 gentleman's house its boughten carpets, expen- 
 sive furniture, books, pictures in real gold frames, 
 ornaments came back to my mind, and the 
 nearer we got to the house the smaller grew my 
 hope that Miss Warrington would give me the 
 chance. Once I even said to myself 'fraid-cat 
 that I was! "Better go home, Keren Brenson; 
 better take the summer school ; better fish and trap 
 lobsters in fair weather or foul, than go on to 
 the Lodge, only to be disappointed and 'shamed." 
 Dear knows! just as like as not I would have 
 asked the hen man to stop and let me get down, 
 if he hadn't said just then: 
 
 "Guess I better take you to the front door be-
 
 SANDPEEP 47 
 
 fore I drive 'round to the back-side of the house 
 with the fowels." 
 
 Before I could speak, the cart had swung up to 
 the broad stone steps in the terrace in front of the 
 house, and when it stopped, every rooster and hen 
 in the coop set up such a crowing and cackling, 
 you couldn't hear yourself. 
 
 In the midst of this dreadful racket the front 
 door opened, and a dignified-looking gentleman 
 came out to the steps, and called to the hen man 
 as cross as could be: 
 
 "Drive around to the rear of the house with 
 your noisy fowls!" 
 
 "Thet's what I cal'late to do, my friend, jes' 
 soon 's I set this young lady down here," the hen 
 man answered, not in the least put out. 
 
 I was "set down," sure enough! The skirt of 
 my dress caught in the cart-wheel, ancbdown I 
 went, and sat flat on the gravel beside the "steps. 
 
 I wouldn't have minded the jolt, or the tear 
 in my skirt, but I was dreadfully put out when 
 someone at one of the open windows laughed. 
 It was a woman's voice, and I know she laughed 
 at me. 
 
 "Do you wish to see the housekeeper?" the 
 dignified gentleman at the door asked me, when I 
 walked up the steps, my face red as a boiled 
 lobster, I know. 
 
 "No, sir I want I Dr. Parke asked me 
 to call to see Miss Warrington."
 
 48 SANDPEEP 
 
 When I said that, the gentleman's manner 
 changed; he stepped to one side, sort of bowed, 
 and waved his hand for me to come in. "I will 
 tell Miss Warrington," he said, just as polite as 
 could be, and asked me to step into the recep- 
 tion-room. 
 
 I followed him across what I thought was a 
 good-sized room, into another, where it was so 
 dark, I could hardly see a thing until the curtains 
 were put back. 
 
 "What name, please?" the gentleman asked 
 me. 
 
 "Miss Warrington," I told him, wondering at 
 his forgetting. 
 
 I mean your name, Miss." 
 
 "Oh, excuse me," and I laughed; "my name 
 is Keren Brenson." 
 
 He went out of the room then, but not before I 
 had seen the smile on his lips. I was glad to see 
 that such a very solemn gentleman could smile. 
 He came back in a few minutes, before I had 
 had half enough time to look about me at the 
 boughten carpet, thick and soft as moss in the 
 woods, the pictures on the walls, and the beauti- 
 ful chairs, and told me that Miss Warrington 
 would be down directly. Then, instead of taking 
 a chair and talking to me, he went out of the 
 room again.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THOUGH Miss Warrington's hair is gray, as 
 the hen man told me, her face isn't a bit 
 wrinkled, and her way of moving about 
 isn't any older than her face. She makes me 
 think of a graceful bird. 
 
 "Good-morning, Miss Brenson," she said in 
 such a pleasant voice when she came into the room. 
 "When did you receive Dr. Parke's letter?" 
 
 "This morning, ma'am," I answered. I did 
 not sit down again, after I had made a bow, and 
 shaken the tiny little hand she held out. 
 
 "You are very prompt, and I am glad you came 
 at once. I want a teacher for my little nephew. 
 How soon can you take charge of him?" 
 
 "Right away, ma'am, if you think I can suit 
 you." 
 
 "I haven't the least doubt but that you will. 
 Sit down!" She took a chair, too. x "You need 
 only to know how to teach a small boy to speak 
 and read English, and from what Dr. Parke told 
 me, I think you will be able to do that. You have 
 been educated by a Harvard tutor, I understand ? " 
 
 "I don't believe Mr. Merion would call me 
 'educated,' ma'am; he didn't stay here long 
 enough for that." 
 
 49
 
 50 SANDPEEP 
 
 "At all events, he taught you to speak differ- 
 ently from the rest of the people who live here, 
 'natives,' as you call yourselves. If you possess 
 an unlimited supply of patience, I think we may 
 consider the matter settled." 
 
 Then she asked me what pay I wanted, and I 
 told her I should like as much, anyhow, as the 
 summer school would pay. She smiled, and said 
 that she would be very willing to pay twice as 
 much, if I proved myself able to manage her 
 little nephew. 
 
 "Do you live near enough to go home in the 
 evening?" she asked. " Geoffrey's maid will have 
 the care of him at night." 
 
 " I live only a couple of miles from here, and I " 
 
 "Then of course you cannot go home at night," 
 she interrupted. "You can arrange to stay at the 
 Lodge, I dare say?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am; I will do whatever suits you, for 
 I am very anxious to get the chance." 
 
 "You shall have the 'chance,' " Miss Warring- 
 ton answered, a smile twinkling in her blue eyes. 
 "Can you begin your duties to-morrow?" 
 
 "To-day, if you like, ma'am." 
 
 "To-morrow will do. Did you walk from 
 home this morning?" 
 
 "No, ma'am, I came with the hen man in his 
 cart." 
 
 "Are you going back with the hen man?" 
 I can't imagine what made her eyes twinkle so!
 
 SANDPEEP 51 
 
 "No, ma'am; he has gone to the Headlands. 
 I shall walk back." 
 
 "By no means," she said quickly. "You shall 
 have some luncheon, then I will send you home 
 in my cart! Now, you must make the acquaint- 
 ance of your pupil." 
 
 She pulled a long, thick cord that was hanging 
 against the wall near the door, and presently the 
 same gentleman that had let me in, came into 
 the room. 
 
 "James," Miss Warrington said, "tell Janet 
 to come to the reception-room with Master 
 Geoffrey." 
 
 He bowed and, without ever looking toward 
 me, went out of the room. That dignified gen- 
 tleman, with his grand way, is one of the help, 
 and I thought he must be a relation of Miss 
 Warrington' s! 
 
 "My nephew is a peculiar child, Miss Bren- 
 son," she said, and I, thinking she had forgotten 
 my name hardly anybody does remember it, 
 unless they are very well acquainted with the 
 names of Job's family interrupted her to say: 
 
 "My name is Keren, ma'am, Keren Happuch; 
 I was called after Job's youngest daughter." 
 
 "Yes so I have heard; but you must be 
 Miss Brenson here," she answered, in a way that 
 told me I had made a mistake of some sort. I 
 meant well, I'm sure, and didn't want her to 
 call me "Miss," when everybody calls me Keren,
 
 52 SANDPEEP 
 
 or "Sandpeep." "Geoffrey," she went on to ex- 
 plain, "has some strange ways, and requires one 
 to be both patient and firm. He is extremely 
 dull, I regret to say, and very obstinate. If he 
 should take a fancy to you, I don't apprehend 
 much trouble, but " 
 
 Just then the door-curtain was pushed back, 
 and a nice-looking young lady came into the 
 room dragging after her a very unwilling little 
 boy. Miss Warrington said something to him, 
 in French, I guess, for I did not understand her, 
 and he began to stamp his feet, and scream; he 
 even tried to bite Janet's hand, because she kept 
 fast hold of his. 
 
 "What a very pretty little boy!" I couldn't 
 help but say, for he is the handsomest child I 
 have ever seen, and he was dressed beautifully in 
 a white suit trimmed with red. The minute he 
 heard my voice^ he stopped stamping and scream- 
 ing, and looked at me with his big black eyes; 
 then he suddenly snatched his hand from Janet's, 
 ran to me, climbed on my lap, and threw his 
 arms around my neck. 
 
 "Will you look at that, now!" exclaimed the 
 surprised Janet; and Miss Warrington, the vexed 
 look gone from her face, said, as if a heavy load 
 had been taken from her, "Well, you have made 
 a conquest, Miss Brenson! I can't tell you how 
 relieved I feel." 
 
 I don't believe she felt any more relieved than
 
 SANDPEEP 53 
 
 I did ; and I showed it, too, by hugging and kiss- 
 ing the dear little fellow. 
 
 "I guess he will let me teach him," I allowed, 
 when he was sitting on my lap, contented as a 
 sleepy kitten. 
 
 "I am quite certain you will have no trouble," 
 Miss Warrington agreed, and said to the hand- 
 some lady who came into the room: "Just see, 
 Juliet, how well Geoffrey already loves his gov- 
 erness. Miss Brenson, Mrs. Warrington." 
 
 I put the boy off my lap to get up and make a 
 bow to his mother, as I thought her then. She 
 nodded her head, and looked at me in a way that 
 made me feel hot all over. I don't know why 
 she looked at me like that, I'm sure; I didn't 
 say a word, only made a bow, which aunt says I 
 do very nicely. 
 
 The minute I sat down, Geoffrey was on my 
 lap again. "You good you rJretty I love 
 you," he said, hugging me. 
 
 The ladies laughed, and I knew that it was 
 Mrs. Warrington who had laughed when I fell 
 out of the hen-cart. 
 
 "He even condescends to speak English," she 
 said, and put on a pair of spectacles with a long 
 handle. "I congratulate you, Aunt Elinor, on 
 finding so accomplished and attractive a gov- 
 erness as Miss er Brenson." 
 
 a l am very glad your little boy likes me, 
 ma'am," I said to her, though she hadn't spoken
 
 54 SANDPEEP 
 
 to me. "I shall try my best to please you, and 
 Miss Warrington." 
 
 She sat down in an arm-chair opposite to me, 
 and kept looking at me through the long-handled 
 specs. 
 
 I may get used to the ways of city folks, but 
 I must say they try me sorely now. I know I 
 appeared more awkward and ignorant than I 
 really am, with that fault-finding Mrs. Warring- 
 ton watching me as a cat does a poor, scared 
 mouse, and I felt truly thankful when a queer 
 noise somewhere in the house it sounded like 
 the buzzing of a giant bumble-bee made Miss 
 Warrington get up from her chair and say: 
 
 "There is the luncheon gong, Miss Brenson. 
 I have not ordered anything for you, Juliet, 
 only for Geoffrey and his governess. Come, 
 Miss Brenson." 
 
 I was truly glad to hear that the laughing 
 woman wasn't coming with us. I dare say Miss 
 Warrington laughs at me, too, but only with her 
 eyes; and I don't mind their twinkling, as I do 
 Mrs. Warrington' s smile and looks. 
 
 Now, used as I have been all my life to eating 
 my meals off an oil-cloth table-cover and out of 
 plain, heavy dishes, of course I thought the fine 
 white table-cover, and pretty dishes, thin almost 
 as paper, the very handsomest things I had ever 
 seen; but I would have died rather than let her 
 see I thought so. When the food was set before
 
 SANDPEEP 55 
 
 me, I must say I could not let on it wasn't new 
 to me. There's a lot of difference between salt 
 pork and codfish, and croquettes that is what 
 Miss Warrington called the little round brown 
 thing James put on my plate and I did not 
 know whether to cut it with a knife or eat it 
 with a spoon, until I heard Miss Warrington tell 
 Geoffrey to use his fork. Thank goodness, meals, 
 like everything else in this world, come to an end, 
 and I was more than glad to leave the table 
 when Miss Warrington got up and said: 
 
 "I know you want to tell your aunt about our 
 arrangements, Miss Brenson, so I will order the 
 cart at once. What is it, dear?" she asked 
 Geoffrey, who was pulling her sleeve and talking 
 French as fast as he could. When she said, 
 "No, not to-day," he began to scream, and ran 
 out of the room. 
 
 "There, Miss Brenson," his aunt said, "I hope 
 you do not regret having undertaken to teach 
 such a fiery- tempered pupil?" 
 
 I told her I did not regret it, and I wished I could 
 speak French, so that I could understand him. 
 
 "It is because you do not know French that I 
 engage you to teach him," she answered. 
 
 "But he may not like me when he finds out 
 that I can't understand him," I allowed. 
 
 "You need have no fear of that," she answered, 
 and smiled. "He has already taken such a fancy 
 to you that he wants to go home with you,"
 
 56 SANDPEEP 
 
 "And why shouldn't he? Would his mother 
 have any objections?" 
 
 "His mother? Oh, you mean Mrs. Warring- 
 ton. She is not Geoffrey's mother." 
 
 How truly thankful I was to hear that! But 
 what I said was: "Then won't you let him come 
 with me? I will take good care of him." 
 
 "I feel certain that you would; but I cannot 
 allow him to go; his father might not approve." 
 She thought for a minute, then added: "I may 
 as well tell you now, that the boy must be very 
 carefully guarded at all times. He must never be 
 allowed to stray out of your sight when you are 
 outdoors with him, and you must never leave 
 him, outdoors or in the house, unless Janet, or 
 some member of the family, relieves you of the 
 care of him. These are his father's orders, and 
 must be obeyed to the letter. Do you under- 
 stand?" 
 
 I answered that I understood; but, for the life 
 of me, I can't see why a boy as big as Geoffrey 
 he must be at least ten years old needs to be 
 tended like a baby. "Howsomedever," as aunt 
 says, "rusticator ways are not Bunker's Cove 
 ways." 
 
 When we were outside the dining-room, Miss 
 Warrington suddenly laid her hand on my arm, 
 and said, in a kind, motherly way: 
 
 "Miss Brenson, you are a sensible girl, and 
 will not take offense if I give you some advice, I
 
 SANDPEEP 57 
 
 know. I like you very much, and think you and 
 I will get on famously together. You have one 
 or two old-fashioned habits I want you to try to 
 correct. One is, saying 'ma'am'; the other is 
 courtesy ing bowing when you are spoken to. 
 Both habits are quaint and pretty, but they are 
 old-fashioned; and I should not like Geoffrey, 
 who is imitative as a monkey, to copy them. 
 You are not offended, I hope?" 
 
 "No, indeed, I'm not, ma'am Miss Warring- 
 ton, ' ' beginning at once to follow her advice . "I 
 thank you very much for telling me. I may not 
 be able to stop bowing and saying 'ma'am' all at 
 once, for I have been brought up to think them 
 manners; but I will try very hard." 
 
 "You are a good, sensible, clever girl, and I 
 understand fully why Dr. Parke takes such an 
 interest in you. You will soon learn many things 
 not in school-books; and when you want to ask 
 questions, come to me. I will answer them if I 
 can." 
 
 "Thank you a thousand times," I said, and 
 she laughed with me when I started to make a 
 bow, but stopped myself just in time. 
 
 I wanted to give the dear, kind lady a hug, 
 as I had hugged her little nephew, but I 
 hadn't courage enough. Though I am a good 
 two inches the taller, she is steeple-high in dig- 
 nity, and I was too scared of her to do anything 
 so familiar.
 
 5 8 SANDPEEP 
 
 I came home in a different vehicle from the 
 hen-pen on wheels; and I wish some of the Cove 
 folks could have seen me sitting beside the solemn 
 coachman in the beautiful little " cart, " as Miss 
 Warrington calls it. Except the dignified James, 
 the coachman his name is Donald is the 
 quietest man I ever met. I couldn't get him 
 to say a word but "Yes, Miss," and "No, Miss," 
 though I tried my best to make him talk. I must 
 say the help at the Lodge are not nearly as so- 
 ciable as Miss Warrington; but maybe Donald 
 and James will be more talkative when we get 
 better acquainted. 
 
 "Howsomedever," I don't find fault with any- 
 body or anything. I am too thankful for the 
 chance at the Lodge. I feel something as a tad- 
 pole must, whose time has come to crawl out of 
 the puddle in which he was born, and begin to 
 hop. To-morrow / shall begin to hop!
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 WITING down everything that happens, 
 ,nd what you think, and feel, is lots 
 better than talking about it. You can 
 be sure that what you tell your book will not be 
 talked about by the whole neighborhood. So, 
 keeping a diary is a good idea, and knowing how 
 to do it is something more I have to thank Mr. 
 Merion for. When Donald came for me on 
 Wednesday morning with the same little cart, 
 nearly all the Cove folks were at our house to 
 bid me good-bye, they said, though I knew very 
 well they had come to gape at the coachman's 
 dark-green cloth suit with brass buttons, his 
 shiny hat and yellow gloves; for aunt had told 
 Louine Haskell about them the evening before, 
 and what is told Louine, every soul along shore 
 hears before she goes to sleep. 
 
 But I was thankful the neighbors were there, for 
 I knew that aunt's pride in my good fortune would 
 keep her from breaking down before folks. I try 
 not to feel too joyful at being at the Lodge, when 
 I think of her, all alone at home. Poor dear! 
 she must miss me sorely, though I am only two 
 miles away, and can go to see her every Saturday. 
 
 Zemro said to me when he helped me into the 
 
 59
 
 60 SANDPEEP 
 
 cart: "I'd rather you wa'n't goin' to stop to 
 the Lodge, Sandpeep, but es you're sot on goin', 
 don't you worrit 'bout Aunt Hit. Me V Louine 
 '11 see 't she don't git lonesome." 
 
 If talk will keep aunt from grieving, Louine cer- 
 tainly will save her from many a sorrowful hour! 
 
 My teacher duties are light, if I don't count 
 Geoffrey's perfectly dreadful temper. But he 
 isn't nearly so stubborn with me as he is with 
 his aunts; he seems to just hate them. I don't 
 wonder he doesn't like Mrs. Warrington, who 
 teases him; but Miss Warrington is never any- 
 thing but kind. When he behaves badly to me, 
 I just pretend I am crying, when he will fly to 
 me, hug and kiss me, and say, over and over 
 again, " Jayvoozaim" which is as near as I can 
 spell it. Janet says it is French for "I love you." 
 I should like to learn French, but of course I 
 would not do anything Miss Warrington would 
 not like. She is kind to me; but her niece, who 
 is a widow-woman, Janet told me, doesn't like 
 me, I can see plainly enough. . There's no love 
 lost, for I can't endure her. When she is where 
 I arn, especially at breakfast which is the 
 only meal Geoffrey and I take in the dining- 
 room with his aunts; the others we have with 
 Mrs. Gilbert, the housekeeper I am on the 
 watch all the time for fear I may do something 
 to make her stare at me as if I were a new 
 kind of bug or animal.
 
 SANDPEEP 61 
 
 By watching Miss Warrington, and doing ex- 
 actly as she does, I sail along in smooth water. 
 By doing that, I have often to eat what I don't 
 like; but I would swallow live grasshoppers 
 rather than have the laughing widow-woman 
 make fun of me. 
 
 The first day I came to the Lodge to stop, 
 Geoffrey wouldn't let me say a word about les- 
 sons, until he had shown me all over the house. 
 I saw the room in which the books are kept 
 such a lot of them, I shouldn't think anybody 
 would ever be able to read them all. There is 
 a piano in the parlor, a beautiful big room, 
 with such handsome furniture and carpet, and I 
 tried to pick out on the keys one of the hymn 
 tunes Mr. Merion taught me to play on the 
 instrument at the schoolhouse. Geoffrey was 
 so pleased that I could "make music," that 
 I had to play over and over again, "I Need 
 Thee Every Hour," and he even tried to sing it 
 with me. 
 
 Miss Warrington came in while we were sing- 
 ing, and when I was going to get up she said: 
 "Sit still, I did not know that music was one 
 of your accomplishments. Play something for 
 me." 
 
 "I can't play the piano," I answered; "I only 
 know how to play a few hymn tunes on the 
 instrument which a friend of Mr. Merion' s sent 
 from Boston, to be used at meeting on Sundays
 
 62 SANDPEEP 
 
 in the schoolhouse I never saw a piano until 
 to-day." 
 
 "This one is very old and out of tune," she 
 said. "I intended to send it away with the men 
 who will bring the new one, but I think I will 
 have it tuned, instead, and moved up to your 
 room. It will help you to amuse the lad, who, I 
 am pleased to see, is fond of music." 
 
 Words could not have told her how truly de- 
 lighted I was. I asked her then if she had 
 never found out before that Geoffrey was fond 
 of music. 
 
 "He has been with me only a few weeks," she 
 answered, in a way that said she did not wani to 
 be asked questions about him. 
 
 "Sing one of your 'hymn tunes'; I want to 
 hear your voice," and she sat down near the 
 piano. 
 
 Though I wasn't sure I could play an accom- 
 paniment, I did the best I could, and sang " Jesus, 
 Lover of my Soul " - Geoffrey, who was standing 
 close beside me with his arm around my waist, 
 singing, too, at the top of his voice, when he was 
 sure of the tune. 
 
 "You have a very beautiful voice," she was 
 kind enough to say. "Did Mr. Merion ever tell 
 you so?" 
 
 "He said it was clear and true, and that it was 
 a pity it could not be cultivated ; he meant that I 
 needed to know how to sing notes properly. He
 
 SANDPEEP 63 
 
 could not sing himself, but only played a little on 
 the instrument, so you see he couldn't teach me." 
 
 "I see," she said, and her eyes twinkled. 
 "When this piano is moved to your room, you 
 must practice whenever you have time. You 
 need not be afraid of disturbing anyone up in 
 your tower- top; no one will hear you." 
 
 There, I must stop writing, for 1 hear Geoffrey 
 screaming like a wild Indian down in his room, 
 which is just under mine. I left him with Janet, 
 but she just lets him stamp and scream until he 
 gets tired.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 T<HREE whole weeks since I told anything to 
 my dear little secret-keeping book, and 
 I intended to tell it something every day! 
 But teaching and looking after a live whirlwind 
 don't leave much time for more agreeable occu- 
 pations. Besides, in the evening, when Geoffrey 
 is with Janet, I get so interested in the book I 
 am reading, I forget all about my diary. Some- 
 times I forget even to go to bed until away after 
 nine o'clock! 
 
 What wouldn't aunt say if she knew I sat up 
 so late? I don't get any time to write at home, 
 for after I have done my Saturday's work, tidying 
 up for aunt, and after meeting is out on Sun- 
 day, I have to talk to aunt and the neighbors, 
 who want to know all about everything at the 
 Lodge. 
 
 But I must write some to-day, though my arm 
 pains so I can hardly hold the pen, or I shall 
 never be able to catch up. 
 
 This morning, after Geoffrey had said his les- 
 sons, very nicely for him, we started out for a 
 long walk. The ladies had gone to drive, and 
 as I had not been told I must not take the boy 
 outside the gates, I thought there could be no 
 
 64
 
 " The tide was out, and Geoffrey was delighted with the pools 
 among the rocks." PAGE 65
 
 SANDPEEP 65 
 
 harm in doing so, even if I hadn't asked Miss 
 Warrington's permission. 
 
 Though the fog is thick as mustard now, the 
 morning was clear and sunshiny, and only the 
 low gray bank out along the eastern horizon told 
 that a change of wind would bring a heavy mist 
 inshore. 
 
 "If it does come in," I said to myself, as we 
 walked through the gateway to the road outside, 
 "a little wet won't hurt a strong, healthy boy like 
 Geoffrey." 
 
 So we went on toward the shore. We had a 
 merry scramble down the steep bank from the 
 road, sliding with the loose rocks and earth; 
 tearing our way through tangled vines and low- 
 growing bushes. 
 
 The tide was out, and Geoffrey was delighted 
 with the pools among the rocks, and the sea- 
 creatures in them. I thought he would never get 
 done exclaiming over the barnacles, winkles, and 
 star-fish. 
 
 I got tired after a while from climbing over the 
 slippery wrack, and sat down on a drift-log. I 
 didn't think any harm could come to the boy if 
 I let go his hand for a few minutes, where there 
 wasn't a sight of living thing out of the water 
 but ourselves, and no sound but the whistling of 
 the buoy out on the ledges, the swash of waves 
 against the cliff, and the singing wind among the 
 trees.
 
 66 SANDPEEP 
 
 I kept my eyes on Geoffrey for a little while; 
 then let them stray seaward, where the fog-bank 
 had already hidden the lighthouse on Baker's. 
 A fishing vessel was tacking for safe anchorage in 
 the "pool" before the fog should overtake her, 
 and I fell to wondering how many barrels of cod 
 she had brought from the Banks to lower her 
 gunnels so near to the water, and how much 
 money the catch would bring her owner. I for- 
 got all about Geoffrey, until I was startled by 
 hearing him talk in a loud, excited voice. He 
 wasn't in sight, but Jiis voice came from the far- 
 ther side of the rocky point, just a few yards from 
 where I was sitting. I was scared, sure enough! 
 
 I scrambled fast as I could over the wrack- 
 covered rocks, and was more than surprised 
 when I saw that the boy was talking French, as 
 always when he is excited or angry, to a strange 
 man with a heavy black beard that almost cov- 
 ered his face. 
 
 Geoffrey said something in French to me, and 
 when I told him to speak English, the man 
 explained : 
 
 "The little boy says he wishes to go with me 
 to see my pony, miss. I will take good care of 
 him, and bring him back in a little while." He 
 took hold of Geoffrey's hand, but I caught the 
 other and said as politely as I could speak: "I 
 can't allow you to take him away from me, sir. 
 I am not allowed to lose sight of him." My soul
 
 SANDPEEP 67 
 
 and body ! but I was scared, when he put his hand 
 behind him, under his coat, and then pointed 
 a pistol straight at me. The muzzle was almost 
 against my breast. 
 
 "The boy is coming with me, young lady. 
 You had better not try to stop him." 
 
 The man's face said a good deal more than his 
 words that he would really and truly shoot 
 me if I tried to hinder Geoffrey from going with 
 him. 
 
 Yet, I had promised to take good care of my 
 little charge and never to let him go out of my 
 sight; so I said, making a move toward the bank: 
 "Very well, sir! then I will go with you, too." 
 But the man held back; his dark face looked 
 darker, and he said, angrily: 
 
 "I don't want you only the boy, so stop 
 your " he said a swear word here "fooling, 
 or " Though he didn't say what he would 
 do, I knew what that "or" meant, when he raised 
 the pistol a little higher and drew back the little 
 hammer on top. 
 
 I was nearly out of my mind. I looked up 
 toward the road and out toward the sea, but all 
 around was thick, heavy fog. No one at the 
 Lodge could hear me if I screamed; there was 
 nothing I could "do! Yes, there was something, 
 the only thing, and I did it. I didn't stop to 
 think what might happen if I failed. I jumped 
 suddenly forward, snatched the pistol from the
 
 68 SANDPEEP 
 
 man's hand, and, though it went off, and a sharp 
 sting on my arm told me the ball had scratched 
 it, I turned the muzzle toward his breast and at 
 the same time stepped back far enough so that 
 he couldn't play the same game on me. Good 
 gracious, how he swore! A "blue streak," as 
 Zemro says. Then he laughed, and said: 
 
 " You're a " swear word " brave wench, I 
 must say! I suppose you'll shoot me, if I try to 
 take the boy now?" 
 
 "Yes, sir! So you'd better clear out, just as 
 fast as you can." 
 
 I answered boldly enough, but I was just shiv- 
 ering with fear, lest he might refuse to go. I 
 couldn't have shot off the pistol; for, though 
 I have seen Mr. Merion shoot, I never imagined 
 I should ever want to know how. However, 
 the man swore again, dropped Geoffrey's hand, 
 and vanished into the fog. 
 
 I waited until the sound of his footsteps upon 
 the road died away, then I let the hand in 
 which I held the pistol sink to my side, and I 
 dropped down on a rock and began to cry like 
 a baby. Geoffrey, who had been staring won- 
 deringly all the while, first at the man, then at 
 me, flung himself down beside me, put his arm 
 around my neck, and cried too, so loudly that 
 neither of us heard the gentleman who came 
 down the bank, until his voice sounded close 
 beside us:
 
 SANDPEEP 69 
 
 "What has happened here? Who fired the 
 shot I heard?" 
 
 I jumped up, but before I could .speak I 
 was so dreadfully flustered at having been caught 
 bawling like a great baby that I hardly knew 
 what to say Geoffrey began to chatter ex- 
 citedly in French, which the gentleman under- 
 stood, for he interrupted impatiently: 
 
 "What nonsense are you telling me?" Then 
 to me "What is this ridiculous tale about a 
 man shooting you?" 
 
 As well as I could, I told just what had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 "You surely don't expect me to believe that 
 you seized a cocked revolver from the ruffian?" 
 he asked, looking at me in a way that vexed me. 
 
 "I don't expect you to believe anything you 
 don't want to believe, sir," I answered shortly. 
 "I only tell you what happened; I snatched 
 the pistol, as I told you, because I couldn't 
 think of any other way to hinder the man 
 from taking Geoffrey away. That's all there is 
 to it!" 
 
 "And it seems to have been quite enough!" he 
 added, a smile showing for a second under his 
 heavy moustache. "It was a very brave, but a 
 most daring, and I must say it foolhardy 
 act. You say the pistol went off when you seized 
 it; you were lucky to escape a severe wound, if 
 nothing worse!"
 
 70 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Yes, sir," I answered. I didn't think it worth 
 while to mention the scratch on my arm, which 
 hurt right smartly by that time. 
 
 From the road above, someone called: 
 
 "Halloo, Warrington! Has anything happened 
 down there?" 
 
 "No! no!" answered the gentleman, who, I had 
 guessed, must be one of the Lodge folks. "Drive 
 on to the house; I will come in a few minutes." 
 
 "It's all very well to say 'drive on,'" called 
 the man on the road, "but how am I to know 
 which way to drive? I can't see ten feet from 
 my nose in this beastly fog." 
 
 "Then wait where you are until I come," 
 answered Mr. Warrington. Then he laid his 
 hand on Geoffrey's shoulder, and said to me: 
 "As this is my son, I think you must be his 
 governess. Are you?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; I am Miss Brenson." 
 
 I came very near saying "Keren Brenson," but 
 prevented myself in time from making that 
 mistake again; I am learning rusticator ways 
 gradually. He lifted his hat, then said: 
 
 "If you have quite recovered from your agita- 
 tion, we will go to the house. Come with me, 
 Geoffrey." He took the boy's hand, and turned 
 toward the bank, but I made no move to follow. 
 I said: 
 
 "Please, Mr. Warrington, let me stop here a 
 little while longer."
 
 SANDPEEP 71 
 
 He turned and looked sharply at me. 
 
 "Why do you wish to remain here?" he asked, 
 as if he thought I was up to something. "Aren't 
 you afraid that tramp might return?" 
 
 I have heard the Cove folks talk about tramps, 
 but I never saw one, so I said: 
 
 "Was that a tramp? I thought tramps were 
 very poor, and wore ragged clothes. This one 
 was dressed very nicely, and didn't look poor or 
 hungry. And now that it is all over, I don't 
 believe he would have shot me even if I hadn't 
 let him take Geoffrey." 
 
 "What he would have done I am unable to 
 say," Mr. Warrington answered. "Would you 
 have shot him, if he had refused to go away 
 without the boy?" 
 
 "I guess I would have tried to," I answered, 
 "though I haven't the least idea what to do to 
 a pistol to make it go off." 
 
 The smile showed again under his moustache. 
 He said: "I shall have to teach you how to 
 use one; then if the tramp should attempt to 
 molest you again, you will be able to defend 
 yourself." 
 
 "Thank you, sir," I answered quickly, "I 
 don't think I want to learn. I am too scared 
 of a pistol. Besides, I don't intend to give the 
 tramp another chance to run away with your 
 boy, and I know he doesn't want to run away 
 with me, for he said so."
 
 72 SANDPEEP 
 
 Mr. Warrington certainly is a very pleasant 
 gentleman he smiles at everything I say. His 
 eyes twinkled exactly like Miss Warrington' s when 
 he said: 
 
 "I am gratified to know that Geoffrey is in 
 such safe hands, Miss Brenson; I am not so 
 certain, though, that the tramp would not run 
 away with you if he got the chance! There- 
 fore, I must insist that you come with me to the 
 house." 
 
 Though I wanted to stay where I was, to look 
 at my hurt arm, I thought I ought to obey the 
 man I was working for; so I followed him and 
 Geoffrey up to the road, where the buggy was 
 waiting. The good-looking young gentleman 
 lolling back on the seat, sat up suddenly when 
 he saw us, pulled his hat on straight, and put 
 his hand to his necktie, to feel if it was in the 
 right place, just as fussy about his looks as a 
 girl would have been. 
 
 "What happened? Who fired that shot?" he 
 asked Mr. Warrington, though he kept staring at 
 me so that I felt my face get red. 
 
 " A pistol in this young lady's hand went off by 
 accident. Mr. Fairboro, Miss Brenson." 
 
 When Mr. Warrington introduced us, Mr. 
 Fairboro took off his hat and made a very polite 
 bow. I was going to make one, too, when I re- 
 membered what Miss Warrington had told me; 
 so, as I didn't know just what to do, I stood
 
 SANDPEEP 73 
 
 there like a gump, until Mr. Warrington said: 
 "You had better take Geoffrey in the buggy 
 with you, Miss Brenson, and drive on to the 
 house. Mr. Fairboro and I will follow on foot." 
 
 "I don't know how to drive, sir," I answered, 
 and Mr. Fairboro said quickly: 
 
 "I will drive Miss Brenson and her charge to 
 the house. There's plenty of room for the three 
 of us here." 
 
 "Very well if you think now that you can 
 find your way through the fog!" Mr. Warrington 
 said, and laughed. Then he lifted Geoffrey into 
 the buggy, and turned to help me in; but I held 
 back and said I would rather walk. 
 
 "Then drive on, Carrington," he said to Mr. 
 Fairboro, who didn't look at all pleased. "I 
 will follow with Miss Brenson. Just give the 
 mare her head and she will take you safely to 
 the Lodge. We are not far from the gate." 
 
 The buggy started forward slowly and we 
 followed. After we had walked a little way, Mr. 
 Warrington said: 
 
 "Don't speak of your encounter with the tramp 
 to anyone, Miss Brenson. I don't want my aunt 
 to know that a tramp is in the neighborhood." 
 
 "You don't think he means to stop here all the 
 time, do you, sir?" 
 
 "There is no telling what an idle fellow like 
 that may do. He may linger around here with 
 the hope of getting back his pistol "
 
 74 SANDPEEP 
 
 " There!" I interrupted, and stood still, "I for- 
 got all about the pistol. But I know just where I 
 dropped it, and I'll go back and get it before the 
 tide comes in." 
 
 "You need not go back; here it is." Mr. 
 Warrington took the pistol from his pocket and 
 held it toward me. 
 
 "Oh!" I screamed, and jumped away from the 
 dreadful thing; "please put it back in your 
 pocket, sir. I wouldn't touch it again for the 
 world! If I should see the tramp again, I will 
 tell him he may have it back and welcome." 
 
 "Do," Mr. Warrington said, and put the pistol 
 in his pocket, "and be sure to tell him to come to 
 me for it " 
 
 He was going to say something more, but the 
 sound of wheels behind us made him turn. 
 
 It was the carriage they call the "victoria," 
 with the two ladies from the Lodge in it. Donald 
 was driving. 
 
 "Why, Brian!" called Mrs. Warrington, more 
 pleased than I have seen her look yet. "Where 
 do you come from?" 
 
 "From the Headlands," he answered, and 
 stepped up to the victoria to shake hands with 
 her. 
 
 "Why didn't you send us word that you were 
 coming, and we would have sent the carriage to 
 meet you?" Miss Warrington asked. 
 
 "When Car, who is in, that buggy with Geof-
 
 SANDPEEP 75 
 
 frey, and I left New York on Amberly's yacht, we 
 had no idea we should land on this part of the 
 coast until some time next month; but an acci- 
 dent to her shaft compelled the yacht to put into 
 the nearest port, which happened to be the Head- 
 lands." 
 
 He must have noticed how Mrs. Warrington 
 kept looking from him to me as if she were won- 
 dering how I came to be with him, for he said: 
 "We came up with Geoffrey and his governess a 
 short distance down the road, and I gave up my 
 place in the buggy to the lad. Now tell me how 
 you have been getting on down in these wilds, 
 without the men of the family to look after you?" 
 
 I did not hear the answer to the question, for 
 I slipped into the bushes by the roadside, and 
 made my way through them to the gate.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 1WAS bathing my hurt arm which is a good 
 deal swollen, and quite red when the buggy 
 and the victoria drove up to the steps in front 
 of the house. The folks stopped to talk before 
 coming indoors, and I could hear Mrs. Warring- 
 ton's disagreeable laugh it isn't really dis- 
 agreeable, but it always makes me think of my 
 awkward tumble from the hen-cart and Mr. 
 Fairboro's voice. He has the pleasantest sound- 
 ing man's voice I ever heard, and I know he can 
 sing. 
 
 The sleeve of my frock was stiff with the blood 
 from the scratch, and there is a jagged tear near 
 the elbow where the bullet went out, that will be 
 hard to mend. But I am truly thankful the 
 bullet went out of the sleeve, instead of into my 
 arm. Arms are not as easily mended as sleeves. 
 
 I was examining the torn sleeve, when Janet 
 came to tell me that Zemro wanted to speak to 
 me at the tower-door. From the way she looked 
 at me, I know she thinks Zem is my fellow, be- 
 cause he has been here several times on errands 
 from home. I wrapped my shawl around me, 
 and ran down the winding stairs to the door of 
 the tower, and found Zem sitting on the railing of
 
 SANDPEEP 77 
 
 the little porch, swinging his boots, on which the 
 dried mud was thick, backward and forward as 
 if they were two big pendulums. He didn't get 
 down from the railing, or take off his hat; he 
 didn't even stop swinging his feet, only said, 
 "Hello, Sandpeep!" 
 
 "Anything wrong at home?" I asked. 
 
 "Hain't nawthin' wrong with Aunt Hit. 
 Louine's not feelin' well 's she might." 
 
 "Never does," I growled, vexed at his calling 
 just to tell me that; but he didn't mind my 
 snappiness. He pushed the stem of timothy, 
 which he was using as a toothpick, between his 
 front teeth several times before he said: "Be 
 you goin' to 'Miry Luscomb's quiltin'-bee th' 
 safternoon? Us fellows cal'late to go to 'Miry's 
 after supper, 'n' then all of us are goin' to hang 
 May-baskits." 
 
 "No, you know very well that I am not free to 
 do as I like, only on Saturdays and Sundays," 
 I answered. 
 
 "Guess you could git leave to go to the quiltin' 
 ef you wanted," he mumbled, still picking his 
 teeth. 
 
 "Maybe I could; but I don't care to ask for a 
 holiday, just to help 'Mira Luscomb make her 
 quilt," I snapped. 
 
 "You won't want to go anywheres with us 
 Cove folks after a while. Louine 'lows you're 
 gittin' set up, livin' with rusticators."
 
 78 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Louine's a silly goose, and so are you for be- 
 lieving everything she says. You just tell her I 
 said so. But I must not stop here quarrelling 
 with you," I added, afraid some one might see 
 me there with him. "Come, I'll walk a little 
 way down the avenue with you." 
 
 "Avy-noo!" he sniffed, getting down from the 
 railing. "This here road hain't any diff'runt from 
 other roads es / kin see. Avy-noo, huh!" 
 
 "Seems to me you are in a particularly bad 
 humor to-day, Zem," I said, looking at him and 
 laughing. 
 
 "'N' ef I be? hain't you enough, with your 
 book-talkin' 'n' avynooin', to make anybody mad, 
 I want to know? " 
 
 "If calling things by their proper names, Zem 
 Haskell, makes you mad, then you'd better not 
 talk to me any more, for I don't intend to stop 
 book-talking to please you, or anybody -else ; and 
 I don't see that you have any call to find fault 
 with me, anyhow!" 
 
 I was mad, too, and let him see that I was. 
 He picked his teeth for a minute, then said: 
 
 "No, Sandpeep, I hain't no call to find fault 
 with you. I lay all the blame on these rustica- 
 tors, condemn 'em! 'n' there's one of 'em now," 
 he added, scowling at Mr. Warrington, who just 
 then came down the road which leads from the 
 stables to the avenue. As he passed us, he lifted 
 his hat to me, and looked sharply at Zemro.
 
 SANDPEEP 79 
 
 "That is Mr. Warrington," I whispered. "He 
 and another gentleman came this morning." 
 
 "Rusticators's gittin' thick's blueb'r'ies in a 
 burnt clearin','' he grumbled, and looked black 
 as a thunder-cloud. "What the tarnation fetches 
 'em snoop-cattin' 'round here, I d'no', 'm sure. 
 'Pears to me like its disrespectable for folks to 
 be croosin' 'round where they hain't any business 
 'n' Louine says so, too; 'n' she says you hed 
 ought to come home, 'stid of livin' to the Lodge. 
 Aunt Hit's too old to stay by herself, 'n' she's 
 pow'ful lonesome 'thout you, too." 
 
 "It would be very strange if she were not lone- 
 some without me," I answered, most as digni- 
 fied as Miss Warrington. "But I know that 
 she would be the last person to want me to leave 
 here, for she says that teaching one little boy is 
 a lot easier, and pays better, than catching fish, 
 and lobstering " 
 
 "You could hev the summer school," he in- 
 terrupted. 
 
 "I don't want it," I snapped. "I am going to 
 keep the good chance Dr. Parke got for me, and 
 if you and Louine don't like it, you may lump it, 
 so there!" 
 
 I turned, and walked back fast as I could 
 toward the house. 
 
 It is real mean of me to treat Zemro badly, 
 after all that he has done for aunt and me; but 
 he ought not to keep telling me the disagreeable
 
 8o SANDPEEP 
 
 things his sister is always saying about me; even 
 her name acts on me as a red-flannel petticoat 
 acts on Clancy's turkey gobbler. 
 
 Mr. Warrington was walking so slowly up the 
 avenue when I caught up with him that it looked 
 as if he were waiting for me; and I guess he 
 was, for he asked as soon as I got near enough 
 to hear him: 
 
 "Who is that young man, Miss Brenson?" 
 
 "Zemro Haskell, a neighbor of ours, sir." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 The way he said that, made me think he had 
 imagined Zem might be somebody else, so I 
 asked him, in a joking way, if he thought it was 
 another tramp. He didn't answer my question, 
 or smile, only asked, very soberly: 
 
 "Is Haskell a fisherman?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, and a very good skipper, too." 
 
 "Does he own a seaworthy boat?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," I answered, heartily, for I knew 
 what I was talking about; "he owns one of the 
 best sloops around here the Keren. She was 
 named after me." A little smile showed under 
 his moustache when I said that. "The Keren" 
 I went on to explain, "used to belong to my 
 father." 
 
 "Ah? I want to engage a good sailboat for a 
 few months; do you think your friend would let 
 me have the Keren?" 
 
 "Would you want him to sail her for you?"
 
 SANDPEEP 81 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "Then I know you can get the sloop," I an- 
 swered; and I was so pleased for Zem that I 
 showed it in my face. 
 
 "You seem deeply interested in the young 
 fisher," Mr. Warrington allowed. 
 
 "I am, sir," I answered heartily; "he and I 
 have been good friends from little boy and girl. 
 After father died, I had to fish for a living, and 
 I don't know what I should have done without 
 Zem. He did everything he could to help me: 
 sold my fish to the trading smack; shared his 
 bait with me, indeed, I can't tell you every- 
 thing he did for me and aunt. So, why shouldn't 
 I want him to get a good chance?" 
 
 "Why not, indeed! After such devotion, your 
 interest in the gallant young man is only natural." 
 
 I was afraid I had given him a wrong idea of 
 Zem's real character, so I made haste to explain: 
 
 "Zemro isn't what you would call 'gallant,' 
 sir. He is just as kind as he can be; but he isn't 
 at all like like city gentlemen. The poor boy 
 has hardly any book-learning." 
 
 "That does not prevent him from being an able 
 seaman," Mr. Warrington answered. He didn't 
 speak again for so long that I thought he had 
 said all he wanted to say to me, and I was mov- 
 ing on ahead, when he asked suddenly: 
 
 "Can you describe the man you encountered 
 on the shore?"
 
 82 SANDPEEP 
 
 "He isn't as tall as you, sir, but heftier; very 
 dark complexion; black eyes and hair; a black 
 moustache, and a bushy black beard." 
 
 "Looks like a foreigner, does he?" 
 
 "I don't know what a foreigner looks like, for 
 I never saw one; but he doesn't look the least 
 like our longshore men. Oh, yes; I came near 
 forgetting; he has a red scar as long as my finger 
 across his cheek, just under the left eye." 
 
 When I mentioned the scar, I noticed that Mr. 
 Warrington's eyebrows came suddenly close to- 
 gether, and made a deep wrinkle above his nose; 
 but he spoke in the same quiet voice when he 
 said: "Thank you, Miss Brenson; from your 
 description I should recognize the fellow if I saw 
 him. I hope you will remember that I asked 
 you not to speak of the tramp to anyone; and 
 try to hinder Geoffrey from speaking of him. 
 Remember, also, never to allow your pupil to 
 wander out of your sight when you are outdoors 
 with him." 
 
 I promised, and I said to myself, when he 
 started on ahead: "You just better believe I 
 won't lose sight of Mr. Geoffrey a second time! 
 I'll watch him as a hawk does a little chicken."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 1 HAVEN'T been able to hold a pen in my hand 
 for three days, because of the pain in my arm; 
 but it is doing nicely now, and will, so the 
 doctor says, soon be quite healed. 
 
 The evening after my encounter with the tramp, 
 I was on the balcony, over the library windows, 
 listening to the music in the parlor. Someone 
 was playing the piano, and never would I have 
 believed, if I hadn't heard it with my own ears, 
 that such perfectly heavenly music could come 
 from anything but the angels' harps in heaven. 
 I only wish I hadn't heard something else besides 
 the music, so that when I think of it the dis- 
 agreeable thing would not come into my mind at 
 the same time. 
 
 Janet told me it was Mr. Fairboro who played 
 so beautifully. He is Mrs. Warrington's brother, 
 for which I am real sorry; but nice men don't 
 always have nice sisters, as Zemro! 
 
 After a while the music stopped, but I waited 
 to hear more, though my arm pained dreadfully. 
 Instead of the piano, however, I heard Mr. War- 
 rington's voice say he must have been at the 
 open window just underneath me: 
 
 "Yes, I dare say she does; she would be a sad 
 
 83
 
 84 SANDPEEP 
 
 dunce if she did not know enough for that. I 
 think, as Juliet does, that she is entirely too 
 attractive. You and I, dear aunt, know how 
 much unhappiness a pretty face can cause 
 what a lure it is for a passionate admirer of 
 beauty, like Carrington. Believe me, an older, 
 or, at least, a less attractive person would be 
 safer. I don't believe you would find it so dif- 
 ficult to secure just what we require in New 
 York." 
 
 I could hear Miss Warrington say something, 
 but as she was inside the library, I could not hear 
 what it was. I never once thought I was doing 
 a mean thing to listen. I was waiting for more 
 music, and I could no more help hearing the 
 voices than the croaking of the frogs down in 
 the marsh. 
 
 "Lem ought to have known better," Mr. 
 Warrington said again. "There surely must be 
 a discreet spinster somewhere, who would be 
 willing, for sufficient remuneration, to undertake 
 the troublesome task. Pardon me, I didn't hear 
 you? Yes, she may be wholly without guile, as 
 you say, but I don't believe there exists a woman, 
 young or old, pretty or plain, of whatever class 
 or condition, so innocent or ignorant, but would 
 recognize the advantage the capture of a man like 
 Car would be. Pardon the slur at your sex, dear 
 aunt, you must remember my provocation! Yes, 
 I may be mistaken. I hope I am. I will wait a
 
 SANDPEEP 85 
 
 few days, and observe her. I am very keen at 
 reading character now ! and if Car continues to 
 rave about her incomparable loveliness and she 
 shows signs of responding to his admiration, 
 which he takes no pains to conceal, then it will 
 be time enough to what is it, James? A tele- 
 gram?" 
 
 Not a sound except frog-voices for a few 
 seconds; then Mr. Warrington went on: 
 
 "All right, James; there is no answer. Pay 
 the messenger who brought the telegram from 
 the Headlands. Here, aunt, is a solution to our 
 problem: Jack and Alice Helmsley will arrive 
 to-morrow. I invited them to stay with us until 
 their cottage at North Haven is ready. You re- 
 member how very devoted Carrington was to 
 Alice before he went to Japan? The old flame 
 may rekindle and Car may recover from this 
 sudden attack of admiration for Geoffrey's at- 
 tractive governess " 
 
 He had been talking about me all the time! 
 He really and truly believed I would set my cap 
 for Mr. Fairboro! 
 
 I had a mind to bundle up my things, and, 
 though it was nearly nine o'clock, to go straight 
 home, and let Mr. Warrington get an ugly old 
 maid to teach his stupid little boy; but when 
 I was back in my pretty, cozy room in the 
 tower-top, I changed my mind. I would just 
 stop where I was, and show Mr. Warrington that,
 
 86 SANDPEEP 
 
 if Mr. Fairboro did think me pretty which I 
 couldn't help, and wouldn't want to! I shouldn't 
 try to "capture" him. 
 
 I know too well when I've got a good chance 
 to leave it in a huff, just because folks say spite- 
 ful things about me, especially if they aren't true. 
 My arm, and troubling over what Mr. Warring- 
 ton had said, kept me awake nearly the whole 
 night. I could hardly comb my hair, next 
 morning, my arm was so stiff and sore; but I 
 managed to dress myself, then I hurried down to 
 Geoffrey's room, as usual, to take him with me 
 to breakfast. Janet met me at the door, and 
 whispered: "Master Geoffrey has just gone to 
 sleep. He has been turning and twisting all 
 night long, and talking wild-like. I am afraid 
 he has a fever; his head and hands are hot as 
 fire." I was scared, too, when I saw how red his 
 face was. He was breathing with a strange, 
 wheezing noise in his throat. 
 
 "I am dreadfully afraid he is going to be sick," 
 Janet whispered again. "I think we had better 
 let him sleep; I can bring him some breakfast 
 when he wakens." 
 
 "Have you told Miss Warrington?" I asked. 
 
 "No, Miss! I hadn't a chance to tell her; she 
 and all the rest of the family had an early break- 
 fast, and have gone to the Headlands to meet 
 some friends who are coming here to visit, so 
 James told me."
 
 SANDPEEP 87 
 
 I thought a moment, then said: 
 
 "Well, let him sleep! That is all we can do 
 until Miss Warrington comes back. I will hurry 
 through my breakfast, then I will sit by the poor 
 little fellow. I guess we sha'n't have lessons to- 
 day." 
 
 Mr. Warrington hadn't gone to the Headlands: 
 he was at breakfast when I went into the dining- 
 room. He hardly looked up from his newspaper 
 long enough to say " Good-morning," and never 
 even noticed that Geoffrey wasn't with me. 
 Once or twice I was going to tell him about the 
 boy, but his face was hidden behind the news- 
 paper and his whole self looked as if he didn't 
 want to be talked to; so I really hadn't the 
 courage to speak. I was trying awkwardly to 
 cut my steak with my left hand, when I was 
 dreadfully scared to hear Mr. Warrington say: 
 
 "Your arm was hurt yesterday, I see." 
 
 "It is only a little scratch," I answered, laying 
 my knife and fork on my plate. 
 
 "I thought it very strange when you told me 
 you were not hurt," he said, and looked vexed. 
 He folded the newspaper, laid it and his napkin 
 on the table, and came around to my side. "Let 
 me see your arm. I may be able to tell you 
 what to do for the wound." 
 
 "It doesn't need anything, sir, thank you 
 kindly," I said, and drew away from him as 
 far as I could, "It is only a tiny scratch."
 
 88 SANDPEEP 
 
 "A bullet- wound is always of more or less con- 
 sequence," he interrupted; and he took hold of 
 my wrist with one hand, and tried with the other 
 to push back the sleeve. I was feeling thankful 
 that it was too narrow at the wrist to be slipped 
 over the handkerchief I had wrapped around my 
 arm, when he took a knife from his pocket, and 
 opened the little blade. 
 
 "Oh please, sir don't cut the sleeve," I 
 exclaimed. "I have no more stuff to make a 
 new one." 
 
 "I will rip the seam;" and he did so, as neatly 
 as I could have done it myself. I watched the 
 keen knife-blade no keener than the gray-blue 
 eyes fixed on it cut slowly, carefully, through 
 the stitches, until enough of the seam had been 
 cut to allow the bandaged arm to be examined. 
 
 "What unpardonable carelessness!" he ex- 
 claimed, when he saw the inflamed gash in the 
 swollen arm. "Why didn't you tell me about 
 this yesterday?" 
 
 "I I didn't think such a little scratch was 
 worth fussing over," I answered, near to crying, 
 he was so cross. 
 
 "You will find some ' fussing' necessary before 
 the wound heals, or I am much mistaken. It 
 will be impossible now to keep my aunt in ig- 
 norance of what happened on the beach. It is 
 most vexatious!" 
 
 He leaned forward and pressed the bell, and
 
 SANDPEEP 89 
 
 when James came in I don't wonder the man 
 forgot his dignity and stared ordered him to 
 send one of the stablemen to the Headlands at 
 once for a doctor. 
 
 "No, James, you needn't send for the doc- 
 tor," I began, but Mr. Warrington interrupted, 
 very shortly: "Do as I bid you, James," and 
 when the man was gone, he said to me: 
 
 "I do not permit anyone to countermand an 
 order I give my servants, Miss Brenson." 
 
 Gracious! but he looked mad! I had the cour- 
 age to say knowing what doctors cost gave it 
 to me "I I certainly have a right to say if 
 I will, or will not have a doctor." 
 
 "You certainly have a right to refuse to see him 
 when he comes. I have no desire to force you to 
 be careful of a wound that you ignorantly imagine 
 to be of no consequence. It might not have been 
 if it had been properly attended to yesterday; 
 but the coloring matter of the sleeve has poisoned 
 it, and your obstinacy may result seriously." 
 
 He got up, and, without another word, went 
 back to his chair and took up the newspaper. 
 Not even when I was leaving the table, after 
 having eaten only a single biscuit, did he give 
 a sign that he knew such a person as Keren 
 Happuch Brenson was near him. 
 
 After breakfast, he rode away on his beautiful 
 horse, to meet the company coming from the 
 Headlands, Janet told me.
 
 go SANDPEEP 
 
 The steamboat was very late, owing to the fog, 
 so none of the family was at home when Dr. 
 Morton arrived. I was thankful on Geoffrey's 
 account that he had been sent for; and I guess 
 if Mr. Warrington could have seen how meekly 
 I allowed my arm to be tended to, he wouldn't 
 think me stubborn.
 
 CHAPTER DC 
 
 MISS WARRINGTON certainly would have 
 found out that I had a sore arm, if the 
 company, and Geoffrey, who had taken 
 a bad cold, had not given her so much else 
 to think about. I was thankful I didn't have to 
 explain, for I don't want to offend Mr. Warrington 
 more than I have already, though I can't help 
 being " ignorant" and "attractive" anymore than 
 he can help being cross and disagreeable. 
 
 The third day after my fuss with the tramp, 
 I was sitting beside Geoffrey's bed, trying to 
 amuse him by drawing a pony. As I can't 
 make pictures with my right hand, I don't 
 wonder the "pony" I drew with my left didn't 
 please the impatient little sick boy. 
 
 "No no no!" he howled, pushing the 
 sheet of paper away from him, and kicking with 
 both feet under the bed-covers. "I want a right 
 pony; that is not a pony. I want I want " 
 
 "The moon, the stars, the earth, and all that 
 thereon is!" interrupted a laughing voice at the 
 door. "Whatever else the noisy little rascal 
 lacks, it isn't a pair of strong, healthy lungs!" 
 
 It was dear, good Dr. Parke; and not even 
 the sight of Mr. Warrington' s sober face I had
 
 92 SANDPEEP 
 
 not seen him since the morning he ripped my 
 sleeve hindered me from saying how very glad 
 I was. 
 
 When the doctor had shaken hands with me, 
 Mr. Warrington said: "I will leave you with 
 your patients, Cousin Lem; when you have done 
 what is necessary here, come to the library." 
 He didn't speak to me, or look toward me. I 
 guess Geoffrey will have an ugly old maid for a 
 teacher before very long! 
 
 "So far as I am able to judge from a first 
 glance," the doctor said, after Mr. Warrington 
 had gone, "my services are not required here. 
 You, Miss Keren Happuch Brenson, I hear have 
 been distinguishing yourself, following in the foot- 
 steps of your brave father. How is the wounded 
 arm?" 
 
 "It is healing nicely, Dr. Morton says " 
 
 "Then you let the Headlands doctor attend to 
 the wound after all?" he interrupted. "I knew 
 you would! I knew Peleg Brenson' s girl had 
 more sense than " He stopped, as if he had 
 been going to say something he ought not, and 
 said instead: "I was afraid I should find you 
 suffering with a rather serious injury. Of course, 
 you did not dream that there could be danger in 
 the trifling scratch, or you would not have been 
 so ahem! Well," he went on to say, after he 
 had cleared his throat, "I will take a look at 
 this little man, though I don't see that he needs
 
 SANDPEEP 93 
 
 me any more than you do; that village JSscula- 
 pius seems to know his business pretty well." I 
 thought he meant Dr. Morton, though I wasn't 
 sure, for I didn't know what an ^Esculapius was, 
 or how to spell it, until I hunted it up in the 
 dictionary. 
 
 I expected that Geoffrey would kick and 
 scream when the doctor took his hand, but he 
 didn't. I guess if he is "excessively dull," as 
 Mrs. Warrington says, that he knows a good 
 friend as well as I do. When the doctor was 
 leaving, he said to me at the door, too low for 
 Geoffrey to hear : 
 
 " I want to hear all about your adventure on 
 the shore, some time." 
 
 "Then you are going to stop here a while?" I 
 said. 
 
 "Yes, for several weeks." 
 
 I said I was glad to hear it, and asked if Mr. 
 Warrington hadn't told him how my arm got 
 hurt. 
 
 "Only that the pistol you seized from a tramp 
 went off by accident. That was a daring thing 
 to do, my girl; and I want to hear all about it 
 from your own lips. You know I take a deep 
 interest in my old friend Brenson's daughter?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, and thank you kindly for it." 
 
 I wonder if he noticed that I didn't make a 
 bow? I don't think I am as polite as I used to 
 be, before I began to learn rusticator ways; but
 
 94 SANDPEEP 
 
 Miss Warrington certainly knows better than I 
 do what is the fashion. 
 
 The doctor had walked almost to the turn in 
 the hall, when he stopped and came back. 
 
 "You must be very careful not to mention your 
 adventure," he whispered. "Don't speak of it 
 to anyone, not even to your aunt." 
 
 I promised I wouldn't, and he went on his way. 
 
 These city folks certainly are very queer. After 
 all, a tramp is only a man. Why Miss Warring- 
 ton should be so scared when there are people 
 always around, I can't see. But then, she, and 
 the laughing widow-woman, and the new young 
 lady, whose name is Alice Helmsley, are different 
 in every way from us longshore folks. 
 
 Miss Helmsley is very handsome, with lovely 
 black hair and blue eyes, and she dresses beauti- 
 fully. I think she is much prettier than I am, 
 and I shouldn't think Mr. Fairboro would have 
 any trouble falling back in love with her that 
 is, if he has really fallen out. 
 
 On- Saturday there was no one to drive me 
 home in the cart, as the second coachman had 
 gone home to New York to see his sick wife, and 
 Donald had driven the ladies to North Haven. 
 So, after I had had my dinner, I started to walk 
 to the Cove. 
 
 When I came back in the evening, Janet, with 
 a sly wink, said: "Just after you had gone this 
 noon, Miss, Mr. Fairboro came to Master Geof-
 
 SANDPEEP 95 
 
 frey's room and asked for you. He said he was 
 going to North Haven and would take great 
 pleasure in driving you as far as your home. 
 When I told him you had gone, he looked so 
 disappointed I was real sorry for him; and when 
 I saw him drive away afterward with the ladies, 
 I said to myself: 'My young gentleman, / know 
 who you would rather have beside you than Miss 
 Helmsley!'" 
 
 I was dreadfully vexed at myself for getting red 
 in the face; but I did not let her see that I had 
 noticed her sly words. 
 
 Janet is more like us longshore folks than like 
 a rusticator, but I must say I can't get intimate 
 with her. I think I prefer Mrs. Warrington's crit- 
 icising looks and laugh to Janet's sly hints and 
 winks. 
 
 Well, I had walked about a mile or so on 
 Saturday, when I heard wheels coming behind 
 me and stepped to one side of the road. It 
 was the Lodge cart and Mr. Warrington was 
 driving. He stopped beside me, and said, just 
 as if he had never been disagreeable to me: 
 
 "I am going to Bunker's Cove, Miss Brenson, so 
 you may as well ride the rest of the way with me." 
 
 He leaned over the side of the cart and held 
 out his hand to help me climb up to the seat; but 
 I didn't stir. I just said: "Thank you kindly, 
 sir, I am going to turn into the short cut over the 
 hill just below here."
 
 9 6 SANBPEEP 
 
 "I want you to show me where young Haskell 
 lives," he interrupted, in his short way; but as I 
 really did not want to ride with him, I said again : 
 "I can tell Zemro to call to see you this after- 
 noon, sir; so, you need not take the trouble to 
 go to the Cove " 
 
 I stopped suddenly when I saw his eyebrows 
 come together, and remembered what he had 
 said when I told James he need not send for a 
 doctor. I did not say another word, but let him 
 help me into the cart, and sat there beside 
 him, feeling pretty much as I used when I was 
 a little girl and had been slapped for being bad. 
 
 "Haskell lives near your home, doesn't he?" 
 Mr. Warrington asked me after several minutes. 
 
 "Yes, sir, just across the pasture from us. His 
 father and mine used to Goodness!" I broke 
 off to exclaim, and looked back, "there's that 
 tramp." 
 
 Mr. Warrington stopped the horse, and looked 
 back, too. "I don't see anyone," he said. 
 
 "He was in the bushes, stooping down as if he 
 didn't want to be seen just there, behind that 
 cat-spruce." 
 
 He turned the cart, drove back, stopped beside 
 the cat-spruce, and jumped to the ground. 
 
 "Hadn't you better take the whip with you, 
 sir?" I called to him, when he started into the 
 bushes. But he paid no attention; pushed on 
 into the thick woods, and was soon out of sight.
 
 SANDPEEP 97 
 
 Goodness! but I was scared. He was gone so 
 long, I was sure something dreadful had hap- 
 pened. There are other ways of hurting folks 
 than by shooting them; and a good strong pair 
 of fists like the tramp's could do a lot of harm. 
 I got so nervous that I could not sit still any 
 longer, and was going to jump out of the cart. 
 What I intended to do, I haven't the least idea, 
 I'm sure, when a swishing in the bushes told me 
 someone was coming. I took firm hold of the 
 reins, and determined I would drive somewhere, 
 in case the someone turned out to be the tramp. 
 He would have to gallop faster than a horse 
 driven by a girl scared half out of her wits, if 
 he wanted to catch me! I can't tell how relieved 
 I was to see Mr. Warrington come out of the 
 woods safe and sound. He didn't say anything 
 until we were driving again toward the Cove; 
 then he said, very quietly: 
 
 "You were mistaken, as I thought. I could 
 not find a trace of living creature larger than a 
 squirrel." 
 
 I know that tramp was hiding somewhere in 
 the woods, but I said nothing more. There is no 
 use "argufying," as aunt says, with a person 
 who just won't believe you. 
 
 "Don't you occupy the room in the tower- wing 
 directly over Geoffrey's?" Mr. Warrington asked 
 suddenly, after we had driven some distance with- 
 out a word from either of us.
 
 g8 SANDPEEP 
 
 I told him I did, and then he asked me the 
 strangest question: 
 
 "Are you afraid of dogs?" 
 
 "Why, no, sir," I answered, "not unless they 
 are the kind that bite." 
 
 "I think I will buy a large dog, not the ' kind that 
 bites,' for Geoffrey. All boys are fond of dogs." 
 
 "And a good watch-dog will keep tramps away 
 from the house," I allowed. 
 
 "Just so; and that you may feel perfectly 
 secure in the tower at night, the dog shall sleep 
 outside Geoffrey's door, and I will move my 
 sleeping quarters over to that wing." 
 
 Now, while I shouldn't mind having the dog 
 in the tower-wing, I should certainly not like hav- 
 ing Mr. Warrington there, for the piano in my 
 room might disturb him. He must be able to 
 read in a body's face what is in the mind back 
 of it, for he said : 
 
 "The arrangement does not seem to meet your 
 approval?" 
 
 Of course I couldn't tell the owner of the 
 Lodge that I didn't want him to move to the 
 tower-wing, so I said: 
 
 "It isn't for the teacher of your son to say 
 what she would like you to do in your own 
 house, sir." 
 
 He looked at me for a minute, a smile twinkling 
 in his eyes he looks like dear Miss Warrington, 
 and that is why I can't help liking him then said :
 
 SANDPEEP 99 
 
 "I see you cherish a grudge against me for 
 sending for Dr. Morton. You must admit, 
 though, that I was right. A doctor's attention 
 was really necessary." 
 
 "Yes, sir, and I thank you. I acted like a silly 
 child that morning, because I wasn't feeling very 
 friendly toward you." 
 
 "Not feeling friendly toward me?" he re- 
 peated; and he looked surprised. "And, pray, 
 what reason had you to feel unfriendly toward 
 me?" 
 
 "Because you said such disagreeable things 
 about me." 
 
 "I said disagreeable things about you?" more 
 surprised than before. "I have no recollection of 
 saying anything disagreeable about you. What 
 did I say?" 
 
 My face was red as fire and I could hardly 
 stammer: "I was on the balcony over the library 
 windows, that evening after my fuss with the 
 tramp, listening to the music in the parlor, and I 
 heard you talking to your aunt. I hope you 
 won't think I listened on purpose, sir. I was 
 waiting to hear more music. Mr. Warrington" 
 and I looked straight into his eyes "you are 
 mistaken if you believe I would set my cap for 
 Mr. Fairboro " 
 
 "You surely did not hear me say I believed 
 you would set your cap for Mr. Fairboro?" he 
 interrupted.
 
 ioo SANDPEEP 
 
 "Well, that is what you meant, and I don't 
 want you to think it of me. I wouldn't do any- 
 thing to vex you, or your aunt." It was dread- 
 fully hard to say what I did, but I am very glad 
 I had the courage. He knows now that I am 
 not the sort of girl he believed me. 
 
 "My dear Miss Brenson," he said, after a 
 minute, very meekly, "I plead guilty, and at the 
 same time beg that you will forgive, and forget, 
 the unkind things I said about you. Will you?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, I will, if you won't think them any 
 more." 
 
 "I promise you I will not." 
 
 "And you won't get an ugly old maid to teach 
 Geoffrey?" 
 
 "Most certainly not!" 
 
 Though he laughed, I could see that he meant 
 what he said, and I can't say how thankful I am 
 that that is settled. 
 
 We did not speak again until we were going 
 down the last hill, this side of the Cove; then I 
 pointed toward the houses on the shore, and said : 
 
 "That is Bunker's Cove, sir; and this" 
 when we got to the wood-road "is where you 
 turn down to the Cove." 
 
 After we had bumped and splashed over the 
 rocks and puddles in the wood-road and were 
 crossing the pasture, I pointed out where Zemro 
 lived; and when we got near our house, I was 
 going to ask him to stop, but before I said a
 
 SANDPEEP 101 
 
 word, he drew rein in front of the gate, just as if 
 he knew as well as I where I lived. I didn't 
 wonder over it at the time, but several times since 
 it has puzzled me. 
 
 I asked aunt, who had come to the door, if 
 Zemro was at home. 
 
 "Zemro's here, 'round by the hen-pen, shuckin' 
 lobster," she answered, peering at Mr. Warring- 
 ton from under the hand shading her eyes. 
 
 I jumped down, and just then Zemro came 
 around from the back of the house. When he saw 
 who was with me, he turned to go back ; but I called 
 to him that he was wanted. For a minute he 
 acted as if he didn't intend to speak to Mr. War- 
 rington ; then he walked ever so slowly across the 
 door-yard, and stopped inside the gate. 
 
 "Wall, here I be, ef anybody wants me," he 
 said, and looked just as stubborn as he could. I 
 wanted to box his ears! 
 
 "Mr. Warrington wants to hire the sloop," I 
 explained, so ashamed of his rudeness. "I told 
 him you would be very glad to get the chance, 
 now that mackerel are so scarce." 
 
 "Cod 'n' hake ain't scurse, nur lobster," he al- 
 lowed, breaking a stem of sou them- wood from 
 the bush beside him, and stripping the leaves 
 from it. 
 
 "Does anyone else in the neighborhood own a 
 good sailboat?" Mr. Warrington asked sharply. 
 I could see that he was disgusted with Zem
 
 102 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Hain't any bo't this side the Headlands good 's 
 the Keren," the Keren's owner answered, tossing 
 up and catching in his hand again the southern- 
 wood leaves. 
 
 "Well, is the Keren for hire or not?" 
 
 Zem flung the southern-wood leaves away, and 
 broke off a stem of hardhack, and picked his 
 teeth with the end of it for several seconds be- 
 fore he answered: 
 
 "I hedn't cal'lated to hire her" 
 
 "Now, Zem Haskell," I interrupted, all out of 
 patience, "what is the use of your talking so? 
 You know very well you have been wanting for 
 ever so long to get a steady chance." 
 
 "Hain't said I don't want one now, es I know," 
 he mumbled, with the hardhack stem between his 
 teeth. "He," nodding his head toward the cart, 
 "hain't said es he wants to hire me, only my b'ot." 
 
 I just know that if Mr. Warrington did not feel 
 friendly toward me, he would not have stopped 
 there another minute. 
 
 "If I can engage your boat, and you to sail 
 her," he said quietly, but I could see that he 
 wasn't going to stand much more nonsense, "I 
 will do so, solely on Miss Brenson's recom- 
 mendation, you understand?" 
 
 "Yaas, I understand," Zem answered sullenly. 
 "Ef I take the chance, shell I hev to stop to the 
 Lodge, too, same es Sandpeep, I mean Miss 
 Brenson?"
 
 SANDPEEP 103 
 
 "No; your time will be your own when I don't 
 want to use your boat; I will send you word 
 when I want it." 
 
 "Wall," Zem allowed, as if he were doing Mr. 
 Warrington a favor instead of receiving one, 
 "guess I might's well say I'll take the chance, 
 for a while anyhow. What' 11 you pay me?" 
 
 "Whatever is usually paid for such service. 
 We will arrange about that the first day I go 
 sailing with you, but you may consider yourself 
 and your sloop engaged from next Monday." 
 
 "We'll call it a bargain," Zem agreed. "I'll 
 begin the job by kerryin' you back to the Lodge 
 Monday mornin', Sandpeep." 
 
 "I am going back to-day," I answered shortly. 
 
 "To-day? 'N' who'll play the instrument 't 
 meetin' to-morrow, ef you ain't there to play it, 
 I want to know?" 
 
 Before I could answer, Mr. Warrington said : 
 
 "You need not return to the Lodge to-day, 
 Miss Brenson. Janet can take care of Geoffrey." 
 
 I wasn't going to tell him my real reason for 
 wanting to go right back, so I said : 
 
 "I think I had better go, sir, since Geoffrey is 
 sick. So will you kindly wait a few minutes until 
 I speak to aunt, and I'll go right back with you, 
 if you don't mind." 
 
 "I am going to North Haven before I return to 
 the Lodge, but I will stop for you say, in two 
 hours."
 
 104 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Thank you, sir." 
 
 He lifted his hat to me, and was turning away, 
 when aunt, who had been coming slowly across 
 the door-yard, peering at Mr. Warrington from 
 under her hand, called to him: 
 
 "Wait a minit, mister." 
 
 He turned back, and lifted his hat to her. 
 What a difference there is between him and 
 Zem! 
 
 "'Pears ef I hed seen you afore, mister," aunt 
 said to him. 
 
 "That is likely, Miss Brenson: I have been in 
 this neighborhood before." 
 
 "You wa'n't never 'round sellin'sewin'-machines 
 'n' lightin'-rods, was you?" 
 
 "Aunt," I interrupted, and I caught hold of 
 her arm, "this is Mr. Warrington, the father of 
 the little boy I am teaching." 
 
 "Oh, neighbor Warrin'ton?" and she smiled 
 all over her wrinkled face. "I'm right pleased 
 to meet you, neighbor Warrin'ton; you ain't goin' 
 away 'thout comin' in to call, be you?" 
 
 "Mr. Warrington is going to North Haven, 
 aunt," I explained, ashamed for her. The poor 
 old dear hasn't found out yet, as I have, that 
 there's a big difference between rusticators and 
 us longshore folks. 
 
 "Goin' to North Haven, be you? Wall, then, 
 call in some time again. Good-day, neighbor 
 Warrin'ton."
 
 SANDPEEP 105 
 
 He thanked her politely for the invitation, 
 lifted his hat, then drove away. 
 
 "I disremember jes' when I see him afore," 
 aunt said, as we three stood at the gate looking 
 after the cart, "but I knowed I hed seen him the 
 minit I laid eyes on him, 'n' thought he was one 
 of them peddlers thet kin talk 's ef their tongues 
 was hung in the middle." 
 
 "He makes me think of someone, too, but I 
 can't think who," I allowed; and Zemro growled: 
 
 "Rusticators all look alike, allus dressed up in 
 their meetin' close. Ef you are sot on goin' back 
 to the Lodge th' safternoon, Sandpeep, you won't 
 hev time to call over to our house?" 
 
 "No ; and I sha'n't get the kitchen floor scrubbed, 
 either, if I stop here talking. So, good-bye." And 
 I hurried into the house. Three hours passed, 
 and the cart had not come back. I felt sure that 
 Mr. Warrington and the tramp had met. 
 
 That was why I had asked Mr. Warrington to 
 let me go back to the Lodge with him; not that 
 I think the tramp would be afraid of me, but he 
 wouldn't be as likely to hurt Mr. Warrington if 
 someone were in the cart with him. I was dread- 
 fully scared when the cart came at last, and Dr. 
 Parke was in it, instead of Mr. Warrington. 
 
 "Oh, Doctor! what has happened?" I asked, 
 meeting him at the gate. 
 
 "Nothing, only you will have to put up with 
 an elderly escort back to the Lodge, Miss Sand-
 
 io6 SANDPEEP 
 
 peep," he answered, smiling. He tied the horse 
 to the gate-post, then, as we walked toward the 
 house, he added: "Mr. Warrington has gone 
 with the rest of the young people for a buckboard 
 ride around the lake and will return home with 
 them this evening. That is why I am here to 
 take you to the Lodge." 
 
 The good old doctor quite misunderstood me 
 when I exclaimed: "Oh, I am so thankful!" 
 
 He took off his hat and said: "You flatter me, 
 my dear. It isn't every day that an old fellow 
 like me is preferred to his juniors." 
 
 I laughed before I answered: 
 
 "Of course, I would rather have your company, 
 Doctor, than anybody else's, young or old; but I 
 said I was thankful, because Mr. Warrington will 
 have someone to go home with him. I will tell 
 you why after a while," I exclaimed in a lower 
 tone, for aunt had come to the stoop to shake 
 hands with him. There was no need now for 
 me to go back to the Lodge until Monday, but I 
 thought I had better go. So, after the doctor 
 had eaten a couple of doughnuts, and drank a 
 glass of milk he called it "taking afternoon 
 tea" we started. 
 
 "Now, what have you to tell me about Mr. 
 Warrington?" he asked, after we had jolted out 
 of the wood-road, and the cart was rolling along 
 nicely toward the Lodge. 
 
 "Nothing about him, I only wanted to tell you
 
 SANDPEEP 107 
 
 that I saw the tramp to-day, hiding in the bushes. 
 I believe he intends to harm Mr. Warrington if 
 he gets a good chance. I think he is just the sort 
 of person to do something dreadful if he had a 
 grudge against anyone. That is why I said I 
 was thankful, when you told me Mr. Warrington 
 would have company home." 
 
 "But why do you imagine the tramp has a 
 grudge against Mr. Warrington?" The doctor's 
 lips and eyes asked the question. 
 
 "I don't know. I just think so. Because he 
 didn't see the tramp, Mr. Warrington doesn't 
 believe I saw him, either." 
 
 "Are you certain it was the same man you 
 encountered on the beach?" 
 
 "I am; I haven't seen so many tramps that 
 I'd be likely to forget. I really believe he means 
 to harm Mr. Warrington," I said a second time. 
 
 "I imagine Warrington will know how to de- 
 fend himself," allowed the doctor, smiling. 
 
 "I don't believe he could lick the tramp, who 
 looks very strong, in a fair fight; what, then, 
 could he do if he was attacked when he wasn't 
 expecting it?" 
 
 "He understands how to use his fists almost as 
 well as a prize fighter, my dear; the college 
 student nowadays devotes as much, if not more 
 time to developing muscle, as to the training of 
 his intellect. In his estimation, brain and brawn 
 are synonymous." (I sha'n't know what "syn-
 
 i o8 S A X D P E E P 
 
 onymous" means exactly, until I can get a peep 
 into the big dictionary in the library. I wish I 
 had cue in my room.) 
 
 "Wen," I allowed, after I had thought over 
 what the doctor had said, "I am powerful sony the 
 tramp took it into his head to come down here." 
 
 "So am I; but civilization is attended by dis- 
 advantages as wefl as advantages; tramps and 
 Efffjiinin march in its train. 
 
 "Fashion doesn't carry pistols to shoot at 
 folks, 7 ' I reminded him. 
 
 "No, it only robs them of health and common 
 sense, 7 ' he returned, smiling at me. Then he 
 
 the subject: "How do 
 
 you like tparlimg the boy?" 
 
 "I fike it very much; but he doesn't learn 
 fast enough to suit me. He isn't the least bit 
 
 mart" 
 
 "No, on the contrary, he is very dull, poor 
 Hide chap! But you are getting on with him 
 much better than Miss Warrington expected." 
 
 "I am very glad she is pleased. She is so 
 kind. She lets me have the old piano in my 
 room, and has given me several easy pieces of 
 music to practice. What Mr. Merion taught me 
 about notes, comes very handy. I guess it's be- 
 cause I am so fond of musk that I get along 
 without a teacher. Don't you remember how I 
 loved the music of the wind-harp you showed me 
 how to make, long ago?"
 
 SANDPEEP 100 
 
 "I have a faint recollection of the wind-harp," 
 he answered, sm iling, and looking as if he liked 
 to hear me chatter; "and I am delighted to hear 
 that its music gave you pleasure." 
 
 "It did; more than I can tell you. I remem- 
 bered that you said, when you showed me how to 
 make the harp, that a fiddlestring would make 
 sweeter music than the waxed thread; so, when 
 the gentleman who stopped at our house one 
 stormy night long ago gave me There!" 
 what had puzzled me so was cleared up all in a 
 second, just as when a flash of lightning on a 
 dark night shows you what you couldn't see 
 before "that is who Mr. Warrington makes 
 me think of the fiddlestring gentleman." 
 
 "Has the fiddlestring gentleman any other 
 name?" the doctor asked, smiling. 
 
 "Of course; but I don't remember hearing it. 
 We always spoke of him, and the young lady who 
 was with him, as the 'city folks, 1 or the 'runa- 
 ways.' The gentleman called the lady 'Angela,' 
 and I thought it such a pretty name I called the 
 doll you sent me, and one of Muley's bossies, 
 after her " 
 
 "Where had they come from?" the doctor in- 
 terrupted, and he seemed greatly interested. 
 
 "From a vessel that was lying at South Haven. 
 They wanted to go to the Headlands that even- 
 ing, but it was storming so, father couldn't think 
 of taking them. So they stopped all night with
 
 no SANDPEEP 
 
 us, and the next morning father carried them 
 in the sloop to the Headlands, where they were 
 married." 
 
 "And did you never hear anything about them 
 afterward?" 
 
 "Not a single word! But we talked enough 
 about them hardly any city folks came down 
 here in those days, you know and even yet, 
 aunt and I talk about them sometimes; and I 
 think of them every time I look at this ring the 
 lady gave me for good luck." 
 
 I held up my hand for the doctor to see the 
 ring, but he was too busy thinking about some- 
 thing else. He did not even look toward the cat- 
 spruce we were passing, when I told him that was 
 where I had seen the tramp. When the buck- 
 board party drove up to the front door late in 
 the evening, I was in my room, reading such an 
 interesting book, "The Encyclopaedia," a sort of 
 dictionary that tells a lot about every word in it. 
 There are about a dozen volumes, so I shall have 
 all the reading I can find time for while I am at 
 the Lodge. 
 
 I went to the window when I heard the buck- 
 board, and for a long while after all the rest had 
 gone into the house, I saw Mr. Warrington and 
 the doctor walk up and down the terrace, talking 
 very seriously.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 1FIND that keeping a diary takes a good deal 
 of time; so, instead of writing every evening, 
 I shall wait three or four days, and use the 
 evenings between for reading and practicing on 
 the piano that dear, blessed piano ! 
 
 If there were forty-eight, instead of only twenty- 
 four, hours in a day, I should not find enough 
 time to do everything I want to do 
 
 Mr. Warrington was as good as his word. He 
 moved over to the tower-wing, to the room next 
 to Geoffrey's, on Saturday evening, after he 
 came back from driving around the lake. I did 
 not like the idea of having him so near my room, 
 at first; but, as he always goes to bed late, I 
 don't think I need to be afraid my practicing 
 will disturb him. The moonlight that evening 
 was just lovely, so, after Janet took my place 
 in Geoffrey's room, I ran down the tower stairs 
 to the outside door, which Miss Warrington has 
 told me several times must be kept locked, day 
 and night. That's another queer fashion rusti- 
 cators have : locking doors, as if they were afraid 
 somebody might come in and steal something. 
 
 As I did not intend to stay outdoors long, only 
 long enough to run down to the cliff and back, 
 
 in
 
 H2 SANDPEEP 
 
 I did not think it worth while to lock the door 
 and take the key with me ; but when I got to the 
 edge of the cliff and saw a sailboat cutting its 
 way through the millions and millions of moon- 
 diamonds sparkling on the water, and recognized 
 the dear Keren, I clean forgot all about the tower- 
 door, and called through my hands: 
 
 "Halloo, Zemro! Where you bound?" 
 
 The boom was shifted in a jiffy, and the sloop's 
 bow was pointed for the little cove. 
 
 "Hain't bound anywheres," Zem called up to 
 me. "I jes' come out fur a moonlight sail. Don't 
 you want to come, too?" 
 
 I did not think Miss Warrington would mind if 
 I went with him, without first asking if I might, 
 so I ran down to the shore, and Zem came for 
 me with the dory. 
 
 "Guess we hev plenty of time to sail 'round the 
 leedge," he allowed, when we were out among 
 the moon-diamonds. 
 
 "Don't go too far," I cautioned him; "the 
 breeze might die down." 
 
 "Guess we kin resk it fur's the leedge," and 
 he let out all the sail. 
 
 The sloop flew before the wind like a bird; 
 and we had sailed around the ledge, and were on 
 the home tack when, all at once, the sails began 
 to. flap loosely the breeze was dying out, and 
 we were at least six miles from the Lodge an- 
 chorage! There was nothing to do but to row
 
 SANDPEEP 113 
 
 back, with the sloop in tow, which is slow work 
 when the tide is against you. 
 
 "We sha'n't get back before-midnight," I said, 
 after we had rowed steadily for what seemed 
 hours, and Surgecliff was still miles away. 
 
 "Don't guess we shell; tide's runnin' out 
 pow'ful strong th' sevenin'. Hain't cold, be 
 you?" 
 
 "No, only vexed; what will Miss Warrington 
 say?" 
 
 "Don't guess you'll hear what she'll say till 
 mornin'," he allowed; and I do believe he was 
 tickled over the scrape he had got me into. 
 
 However, we got back to the Lodge sooner 
 than I expected, for when Zem saw how vexed I 
 was, he rowed with all his might. I guess he 
 must have been pretty tired by the time he got 
 home, unless the breeze rose again. 
 
 When I got to the tower-door, which was open 
 a little way, I was greatly surprised to see a 
 light shining inside. I peeped through the crack, 
 and I'm sure I should not have been any more 
 scared if I had seen the tramp, instead of Mr. 
 Warrington. He had on a sort of wrapper that 
 came clear to the floor, and was tied around the 
 waist with a thick cord with tassels at the ends, 
 and he had a lamp in his hand. When I pushed 
 back the door, he looked at me in a way that 
 made me wish I could melt away to nothing, and 
 asked me where I had been.
 
 ii4 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Out out doors," I answered, scarcely 
 able to speak, I was so scared, and out of 
 breath, too. 
 
 "That is evident! Do you know how late it 
 is?" 
 
 "It must be very late sir, but I " 
 
 "It is nearly one o'clock," he interrupted; "a 
 very unseemly hour for a young girl to be out 
 alone." 
 
 "But I wasn't alone, sir; I was sailing with 
 Zemro Haskell. I did not intend to stay longer 
 than half an hour, but the wind died down, and 
 we had to row all the way from the ledge." 
 
 "You are of course at liberty to go where you 
 please, when your tasks for the day are over; 
 but I must insist that you obey orders. The 
 doors here must be kept locked. I see now how 
 necessary it was for me to move over to this part 
 of the house. I shall guard against future negli- 
 gence here by keeping this key in my possession." 
 
 He locked the door, put the key into the 
 pocket of his wrapper, and without another 
 word, walked up the stairs. The moonlight 
 shining through the windows showed me the 
 way to my tower-top, after he had gone into 
 his room with the lamp. 
 
 I slept so late next morning that everybody 
 was at breakfast when I went down. I just 
 hated to go to the table by myself, which I had 
 to do, as Geoffrey was not yet well enough to
 
 SANDPEEP 115 
 
 leave his room, but nobody minded me; only 
 Miss Warrington spoke to me, and was kind and 
 pleasant as usual. 
 
 "Who is going to church this morning?" she 
 asked, when she rose to leave the table after 
 breakfast. 
 
 " Church ? " repeated Mr. Helmsley, in great sur- 
 prise. He is a very pleasant-spoken gentleman, 
 though not what I should call handsome. I don't 
 think he is as nice as Mr. Fairboro. 
 
 "Yes, church. Do you imagine that this ex- 
 treme corner of our country is still uncivilized?" 
 she inquired, smiling at him. 
 
 "Not uncivilized but a church ? Pray, where 
 is it?" 
 
 "Religious services are held every Sunday in 
 the public hall at the Headlands and in the 
 schoolhouse at the Cove." 
 
 "Let's all go to the Headlands on the buck- 
 board," suggested Miss Helmsley. "I adore a 
 buckboard." 
 
 They all laughed at her; then her brother 
 said: "I'll go for a buckboard ride, too, but 
 not to hear a two-hour sermon from a country 
 parson." 
 
 "I am going to hear a sermon in Nature's 
 chapel," allowed Mr. Fairboro, "to listen to the 
 hymning of the surges." 
 
 " 'Hymning of the surges' is very poetic, 
 Carrington; who said it before you?" Miss
 
 n6 SANDPEEP 
 
 Helmsley and Mr. Fairboro are always plaguing 
 each other. 
 
 "It is original with me," he answered, letting 
 on to be very dignified. "My brain is stored 
 with poetic fancies - 
 
 "Orders for sonnets filled while you wait!" 
 she interrupted, laughing. 
 
 Such joking is like French to me; but I like 
 to listen to them. I sort of guess what they 
 mean 
 
 " 'Nature's chapel/ my dear brother," said 
 Mrs. Warrington, who has a most pleasing voice 
 and manner when she is with folks she likes, "is 
 the usual excuse of your sex when evading your 
 duties in the church built by hands." 
 
 "And it's quite as good and truthful as your 
 sex's proverbial headache," he answered back. 
 
 "/ never hear 'hymning,' or anything poetic in 
 surges," drawled Miss Helmsley. "The mere 
 sight of waves gives me maldymare." That's 
 what it sounded like, but what it means, I don't 
 know, I'm sure; I can't find it in the dictionary. 
 
 "I see plainly enough," said Miss Warrington, 
 then, "that none of you poetic, and otherwise, 
 young persons intend to accompany me to church, 
 so" 
 
 "If an elderly escort will be acceptable," Dr. 
 Parke interrupted, "I am at your service, Cousin 
 Nelly.". 
 
 "I did not say I would not go, Aunt Elinor,"
 
 SANDPEEP 117 
 
 said Mrs. Warrington, folding her napkin; "and 
 I know Alice and Brian will come, too." 
 
 "Of course I will. I'll stand the sermon for 
 the buckboard ride," agreed Miss Helmsley; but 
 I didn't hear what Mr. Warrington said, as I 
 was hurrying after his aunt. In the hall I said 
 to her: 
 
 "Janet says she does not need me to help her 
 this morning, Miss Warrington; so, if you have 
 no objections, I should like to go to meeting, as 
 there is no one else to play the hymns." 
 
 "Why, certainly you may go," she answered 
 heartily. "I did not expect you to return yester- 
 day. Janet could have taken care of Geoffrey." 
 
 Of course I didn't tell her why I had come 
 back on Saturday; but her kind manner gave me 
 the courage to speak of the night before and the 
 sail with Zemro. 
 
 "My nephew told me you were out until late, 
 and where you were," she answered, not in the 
 least as if she were vexed with me, and I was 
 turning to go up the stairs, when she laid her 
 hand on my arm in the sweet motherly way she 
 has and asked me if I was going to marry Zemro. 
 
 "Marry Zemro Haskell?" I exclaimed. "No, 
 indeed I am not. Why do you ask me that, dear 
 Miss Warrington?" 
 
 Instead of answering, she allowed that I ought 
 not to encourage him if I did not care for him. 
 
 "But I do care for him," I said. "I like him
 
 n8 SANDPEEP 
 
 very much almost as much as if he were my 
 own brother." 
 
 "Do you imagine he cares for you in the 
 same way, as if you were his sister?" she asked, 
 smiling. 
 
 My face got red, for I am beginning to believe 
 that Zem wants to be my company. That some 
 folks think he is, I know. 
 
 "If you think going sailing with Zemro is en- 
 couraging him, I sha'n't go again," I said after a 
 minute. "I will do whatever you think I ought, 
 dear Miss Warrington." 
 
 She patted my shoulder, and answered: 
 
 "I shall take great pleasure in advising you, 
 my dear, and will talk this matter over with you 
 some other time. Now, we must make haste, 
 and be off to 'meeting.' ' 
 
 When I got to the schoolhouse, all out of 
 breath from having walked so fast, Elder Snow- 
 don had just said, "We will hear from the choir." 
 
 I hurried to my place at the instrument * I 
 must get used to calling it a 'parlor organ,' as 
 Mr. Merion always called it opened the note- 
 book at one of the hymns we always sing for an 
 opening piece, and began to play. 
 
 As I sat with my back to the door when play- 
 ing, I did not see that some one else came in 
 late; but if I had looked up from the keys I 
 might have known from Zemro' s black looks, 
 and Aramanda Stinson's smiles, that a stranger
 
 SANDPEEP 119 
 
 was in the room. I guess it was just as well I 
 did not see Mr. Fairboro come in, and, after 
 looking all around for a seat, take the dunce's 
 stool near the stove. I just know how tickled 
 the boys and girls were when the city gentleman 
 chose the seat they never took unless the teacher 
 made them. 
 
 When the hymn was ended, and the Elder had 
 said, " Thank you," he read a chapter in the 
 Bible, after which everybody sang the second 
 hymn with the choir; and several times I caught 
 the sound of a voice I knew did not belong to 
 any Cove body. But I never once thought some- 
 one from the Lodge might have come to the 
 schoolhouse, not even when Zemro whispered in 
 my ear, "Guess I showed thet rusticator 't some- 
 body else kin sing 's good 's he kin," did it enter 
 my head that it was someone I knew. 
 
 I was dreadfully vexed with myself for getting 
 red in the face when I turned around and saw 
 Mr. Fairboro looking at me, and smiling. How 
 I wished he hadn't come to meeting! I knew he 
 would make fun of the Elder's sermon. Poor 
 Elder Snowdon! He is very ignorant, but good 
 as can be; and of course it is better to be good 
 than smart. I must say, though, that I would 
 rather be smart and wicked than good and igno- 
 rant. I know it is very sinful to feel so, but one 
 can't help being wicked in one's mind, sometimes. 
 Well, Mr, Fairboro and I kept looking toward
 
 120 SANDPEEP 
 
 each other every time the Elder said anything that 
 made us take notice, and the poor soul said so 
 many strange things, that so it seems to me now 
 
 the eyes on the dunce-stool, and those beside 
 the instrument, were looking at each other every 
 minute. 
 
 The Elder was more ungrammatical than usual. 
 As nearly as I can remember, this is part of his 
 sermon ; I write it down in my diary, for I know I 
 shall enjoy reading it when I am an old woman, 
 and know ever so much more than I do now. He 
 had been telling us that God can do everything; 
 that nothing is impossible for Him: 
 
 "No, sir!" he exclaimed, and pounded on the 
 table with his fist. "There ain't nawthin' God 
 can't do; 'n' nowheres He can't go. Mankind 
 by mankind I mean men, weemen, 'n' children 
 
 hed ought to be thankful thet He kin be every- 
 wheres at oncet. He kin be in heaven, 'n' in one 
 of them bean hills out yonder," pointing toward 
 Myra Gladen's garden outside the window, "at 
 the same minit. He kin go right down here," 
 stamping his foot on the platform, "'n' come 
 out in Chiny. There ain't nawthin' He can't 
 do!"* 
 
 Oh, dear! how ashamed I was for him, for 
 myself, for all the Cove folks ! But they didn't 
 see anything to smile at in the good Elder's 
 
 * From a sermon delivered in the Cove schoolhouse at the time of which 
 this story treats.
 
 SANDPEEP 121 
 
 earnest words. And, after all, they were true; 
 a city preacher would only have said them in a dif- 
 ferent way. I guess the Lord understood them, 
 and won't lay the Elder's ignorance against him 
 when it comes to judging folks at the last day. 
 
 When Deacon Gladen passed around with his 
 hat for the collection, I noticed that Mr. Fairboro 
 put a bill into it, and it couldn't have been less 
 than a dollar. How good it must have made the 
 Elder feel, when he saw it among the pennies 
 and nickels! 
 
 I was in a bad humor with myself and every- 
 body else and I played the last hymn so fast the 
 people could hardly keep up with the choir. 
 Some of them didn't get done singing one line 
 before I was half through the next one. But, 
 above all the discord, I heard Mr. Fairboro's 
 beautiful voice keeping time with the instrument, 
 clear, true, lovely as an angel's. And how vexed 
 I was with Zemro when he said to me, after 
 meeting was over and he was walking out of the 
 schoolhouse with aunt and me: 
 
 "We done splendid th' smornin', Sandpeep! 
 Guess thet bellerin' rusticator found out what 
 good singin' 'n' playin' is!" 
 
 I didn't answer, I was too cross; I even 
 snapped "No, I'm not," at aunt, when she asked 
 me if I was going to stop at home till the next 
 morning. Her dear old face, away back in the 
 crown of her sunbonnet, looked so surprised,
 
 122 SANDPEEP 
 
 that I added quickly, "I must go back to the 
 Lodge, aunt dear. Geoffrey will be well by next 
 Saturday, then I'll stay at home until Monday. 
 Why don't you go home with Linda Steven, and 
 make her a little visit?" 
 
 Aunt thought a minute and then told me to 
 ask Linda if there was room in her wagon for 
 one more passenger. Linda said there was 
 "plenty of room," and she would "admire to hev 
 Aunt Hit make her a visit now thet Steven 
 wa'n't to home." 
 
 After I had helped aunt into Linda's ricketty 
 old wagon, I went back to Zemro, who was wait- 
 ing for me. Mr. Fairboro was talking to the 
 Elder, near the schoolhouse steps. He took off 
 his hat to me, and the Elder said: 
 
 "Hello, Sandpeep, you was some late th' 
 smornin'." 
 
 I just said, "Yes, sir, I couldn't help it," and 
 went on. 
 
 "There's a splendid sailin' wind," Zemro said 
 to me, "'n' I'll kerry you to the Lodge." 
 
 "No, thank you," I answered, very dignified. 
 "I am never going sailing with you again, after 
 keeping me out so late last night." 
 
 "Why, Sandpeep! You ain't goin' to lay the 
 wind's goin' down to me, be you? Come on, 
 there's sech a good breeze." 
 
 He took hold of my wrist, but I jerked away 
 from him, and said crossly:
 
 SANDPEEP 123 
 
 "I tell you I am not going sailing with you, ever 
 again, Zem Haskell; so you needn't ask me." 
 
 "You hain't never goin' sailin' with me again?" 
 he spluttered, angry as an old hen. " Guess I 
 know why you don't want I should ast you to go 
 sailin' with me, Miss Sandpeep Brenson; you'd 
 ruther go walkin' with thet monkeyfied rustica- 
 tor 't kin fling dollar-bills in the deacon's hat like 
 they was only cents condemn him ! You hed 
 better" 
 
 But I didn't stop to hear what I had better do; 
 I walked away as fast as I could go, up the hill. 
 I knew that everybody standing around the steps 
 was just waiting to see if Mr. Fairboro wouldn't 
 walk along with me. So I ran, rather than 
 walked, and had got to the top of the hill, out 
 of sight of the schoolhouse, when I heard Mr. 
 Fairboro say behind me: 
 
 "Well, Miss Brenson, from the pace you are 
 going, one might believe you were trying for the 
 prize in a pedestrian match." 
 
 At the first sound of his voice, I thought for a 
 minute that I ought not let him catch up with 
 me. Then I decided that that would be silly; 
 so I stopped and waited for him. 
 
 "Why did you run away from me?" he asked, 
 when we were walking along together. 
 
 "I didn't run away from you, Mr. Fairboro. 
 I am in a hurry to get back to the Lodge, because 
 it is luncheon time."
 
 124 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Ah, well, I am delighted to hear that 
 hunger, and not aversion for my society, caused 
 you to flee! But didn't you guess that I wanted 
 to walk back to the Lodge with you ? that I 
 went to the schoolhouse solely for that purpose ? " 
 
 "No, sir, I didn't. You ought not to have 
 gone to meeting for that." 
 
 "You surely don't imagine I would tramp 
 through the dust from Surgecliff merely to listen 
 to that prosy old duf preacher ? Come, Miss 
 Brenson, give me credit for better taste, and 
 confess that you were no more edified by that 
 sermon than I was. " 
 
 Though I do find fault with the Elder's way of 
 speaking, I think joking about religion is sinful; 
 so I said, very dignified: 
 
 "I may not have admired what the Elder said, 
 but I know he is a very good man, and does the 
 best he knows how. That is all anybody can 
 do." 
 
 "You view the subject in the proper light, Miss 
 Brenson," he allowed; and, though his face was 
 sober, I knew he was laughing in his mind. 
 "But, devout as you are, I saw plainly enough 
 what you thought of the Elder's 'best.' I am 
 a Lavater at reading countenances, you must 
 know." 
 
 "What is a Lavater?" I asked. I hate not to 
 know what people are talking about; it makes 
 me feel such a dummy.
 
 SANDPEEP 125 
 
 "Lavater?" He cleared his throat before ex- 
 plaining: "Lavater was an awfully clever French- 
 man, who could read character in countenances, 
 don't you know?" 
 
 "No, I didn't know, thank you. I dare say I 
 shall learn all about him when I get to L in the 
 Encyclopaedia. I have only got as far as D. " 
 
 "What a lot of cramming you must have to 
 do, in order to teach!" he remarked, after a 
 minute. 
 
 "Cramming?" I repeated. Father used to say 
 to me, when I ate so fast, "Don't cram so, Sand- 
 peep," but I knew Mr. Fairboro wasn't talking 
 about my stomach. 
 
 "Pardon the college slang; of course you don't 
 understand it. Cramming means stuffing your 
 brain, studying a lot, so as er er not to 
 forget, you know." 
 
 "I see. Yes, I study and read a great deal, 
 now that I have the library at the Lodge to go 
 to for books." 
 
 "Do you find the Encyclopaedia er inter- 
 esting?" 
 
 "Oh, very! I know so much more than I did 
 before I began to read it, and, as I said, I am 
 only at D." 
 
 "Don't you care for novels? poetry?" 
 
 "Not much! I have read only one novel; 
 Zemro Haskell got it from the skipper of a trad- 
 ing smack, and gave it to me. I didn't like it.
 
 126 SANDPEEP 
 
 There was too much fighting and killing people. 
 I have read some poetry since I came to the 
 Lodge. It was composed by Mr. Merion's 
 favorite poet Mr. Tennyson. Have you ever 
 read any of the verses he wrote?" 
 
 "Yes, I have read a good many of Mr. Tenny- 
 son's verses. But who is Mr. Merion?" 
 
 "A gentleman who taught school here; he was 
 from Boston and so smart!" 
 
 "Naturally, coming from Boston! Where is he 
 now?" 
 
 "Dr. Parke told me he had gone out West 
 somewhere, to Philadelphia, I think." 
 
 "Then he must be dead. Boston folk, you must 
 know, Miss Brenson, can't live anywhere else." 
 
 I didn't like the way he made fun of Boston, 
 and let him see that I didn't by not answering, 
 and after a little while he said: 
 
 "If you were turned to browse among a lot of 
 modern romances, I wonder whether you would 
 continue to think the Encyclopaedia the best 
 book." 
 
 "But I don't think it is the best book, Mr. 
 Fairboro," I interrupted. "The Bible is the best 
 book, of course. Though I will say that, if it 
 wasn't wicked, I should prefer the Encyclopaedia, 
 because it explains things. There is so much in 
 the Bible I can't understand." 
 
 "Why don't you ask the Elder to explain what 
 you can't understand?"
 
 SANDPEEP 127 
 
 "I don't think he could. Elder Snowdon, as 
 you know, isn't educated like the preachers in 
 Boston. Once, when I asked him to explain 
 something that puzzled me, he said, " without 
 thinking how wrong it was to mock the Elder, 
 I repeated what he had said exactly as he 
 said it: "'Sandpeep Brenson, ef you hed a 
 realizin' sense of your sinfulness, you wouldn't 
 hev to ast sech questions; 'n' ef you don't 
 want to be in danger of everlastin' fire 'n' 
 brimstun, you hed ought to pray 'n' wrastle 
 'thout ceasin'." 
 
 I realized that I had done what I "hedn't 
 ought" when Mr. Fairboro laughed fit to split 
 his sides. 
 
 "What an amusing old duffer he must be!" he 
 said when he was done laughing. 
 
 I don't know what a "duffer" is, but I just 
 know it isn't the sort of word that ought to be 
 used to describe the good old Elder; so I said, 
 and I was very dignified: 
 
 " Elder Snowdon is a very good and religious 
 old gentleman, Mr. Fairboro, and I am truly 
 sorry I was wicked enough to make you laugh at 
 him. Why I talk to you as I do, I don't know 
 I'm sure, unless it is because you don't seem in 
 the least religious yourself." 
 
 "No, I am not in the least religious," he 
 agreed, and he was very serious. "I don't pre- 
 tend to be good, Miss Brenson. By Jove! I
 
 128 SANDPEEP 
 
 don't believe I have given a thought to serious 
 subjects for years if ever." 
 
 "And you have lived all your life in a city 
 where you could have had educated preachers 
 explain things you didn't understand!" 
 
 "Yes; all my sinful, wicked life," he answered 
 humbly, but I saw the twinkle in his eyes, and 
 knew he was laughing inside. "I deserve to be 
 severely punished for wasting so much precious 
 time, don't I?" 
 
 "I have no call to judge anyone, Mr. Fairboro, 
 and, come to think of it, the people who don't 
 want to know everything are the most contented." 
 
 "They are! That is what Mr. Gray thought 
 when he wrote the axiom: 'Where ignorance is 
 bliss' you know the rest, I dare say?" 
 
 "Yes, I know it. It was the W line in my 
 copy-book at school; but I never knew who com- 
 posed it. You are real smart after all, aren't 
 you?" 
 
 He looked sharply at me for a second before 
 he said, smiling: 
 
 "Not so 'smart' as you imagine. You will be 
 no end smarter, when you have got to the last Z 
 in the Encyclopaedia." 
 
 "I shall know a great deal more than I do 
 now," I answered, "but I can't expect to know 
 as much as you do. Books don't teach every- 
 thing." 
 
 "You are dead right! books don't teach every-
 
 SANDPEEP 129 
 
 thing. If you like, I will teach you some of the 
 things I know may I ?" 
 
 The way he looked at me made my face red. 
 I answered: 
 
 " Thank you kindly for the offer, but I haven't 
 time to take lessons from you; and if I had, I 
 know Miss Warrington wouldn't like me to. Do 
 you think she would mind if she knew I had 
 doubts?" I asked, because I wanted to talk 
 about something else. 
 
 "Doubts? "he repeated, and he looked puzzled. 
 "What sort of doubts?" 
 
 "I mean my doubts about some of the things I 
 read in the Bible." 
 
 "Oh! no; Aunt Elinor is too sensible to 
 mind such trifles. Besides, your doubts are not 
 likely to interfere with your teaching Geoffrey. I 
 know she wouldn't condemn you to 'everlastin' 
 fire 'n' brimstun' for them; Warrington is a sort 
 of Agnostic himself." 
 
 "Is an Agnostic anything like an Episcopal?" 
 I asked. "Elder Snowdon says the Episcopals 
 who are building the chapel at the Headlands, 
 might just as well be Greenland's icy mountain 
 heathens, because they dance, and do other 
 wicked things." 
 
 Mr. Fairboro laughed heartily again before he 
 answered: "No, Agnostics and Episcopals are 
 not the least alike." 
 
 "Would you mind telling me what an Agnostic
 
 130 SANDPEEP 
 
 is? I don't remember seeing that word among 
 the A's in the Encyclopaedia." 
 
 "An Agnostic is er an Agnostic isn't 
 doesn't believe anything." 
 
 "Doesn't believe anything? " I repeated. 
 
 "Nothing at all! Warrington isn't the only 
 unbeliever in the world, Miss Brenson, so you 
 needn't look so horrified. Scores of able men 
 and women, too are free-thinkers ' : 
 
 "Free-thinkers?" I interrupted ; "what are they, 
 please?" 
 
 "Well, by Jove!" and he laughed again; 
 "the next time I start out to enjoy a walk with 
 you, I'll bring a wheelbarrow loaded with dic- 
 tionaries and encyclopaedias with me." 
 
 "I know I am very ignorant," I said, a little 
 vexed. "I have never been to Boston." 
 
 "A most satisfactory excuse for ignorance!" 
 he said with a laugh. "But you are not by any 
 means ignorant, Miss Brenson," he added more 
 seriously. "I doubt it every person that has 
 been to Boston could fully explain the beliefs of 
 Spencer, Huxley, Haeckel, and the rest of those 
 clever unbelieving duffers." 
 
 "Would you mind writing down those names for 
 me, Mr. Fairboro? I want to read about them." 
 
 "I will write out a list for you with great 
 pleasure." 
 
 "Thank you; I wish I knew as much as you 
 do!"
 
 SANDPEEP 131 
 
 "7 have been to Boston, you see!" he an- 
 swered in a joking way. Then he came closer to 
 my side, and said quite seriously: "A thought 
 has suddenly occurred to me, Miss Brenson. 
 Couldn't you and I arrange for an hour's study 
 together, now and then? It would be of great 
 benefit to both of us. You could tell me much 
 that I should like to know about this region, and 
 the people; and I might be able to teach you 
 something, too." 
 
 "I am quite sure you could," I answered 
 heartily; "and I should enjoy nothing better; 
 but, as I said before, I haven't time even for 
 an hour now and then." 
 
 "You are free on Saturday afternoon, and 
 Sunday, aren't you?" he asked after a minute. 
 
 "Yes, sir, but on Saturday I have such a lot of 
 work to do at home; and on Sunday morning I 
 play the instrument I mean the parlor organ 
 at meeting, and practice hymns in the after- 
 noon." 
 
 "At the schoolhouse?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "By yourself?" 
 
 "Sometimes; and sometimes Aramanda Stim- 
 son and Zemro Haskell practice with me. They 
 sing in the choir." 
 
 "I understand. The young lady has a pretty 
 good voice, and so has Haskell; but he ought 
 not to imagine he is singing bass when he bellows
 
 132 SANDPEEP 
 
 like a fog-horn. I say," he asked suddenly, and 
 looked at me sharply, "had that young man a 
 right to look like a thunder-cloud because I 
 wanted to walk home with you?" 
 
 "Why, no, sir. Nobody has a right to object 
 to your walking with me if you care to - I 
 broke off suddenly, and felt my cheeks burn, for 
 I remembered that there were folks who would 
 object if Mr. Fairboro paid attention to me. 
 
 "If I care to?" he repeated, in a way that 
 made my cheeks get redder. "I care very much, 
 and I hope you are enjoying our walk as much 
 as I am. Are you?" 
 
 "I think it is very pleasant," I answered, and 
 felt foolish. "It is always more pleasant to 
 have company than to tramp along by yourself. 
 Father used to say: 'Two vessels cruising within 
 hailing distance shorten the voyage, ' and I'm sure 
 I have learned something from the other vessel 
 on this voyage!" I added, and laughed. 
 
 "I am delighted to hear you say so; there are 
 some things I should like to teach you if " 
 
 He didn't finish what he was going to say, for 
 just then the buckboard coming from the Head- 
 lands swung into the Lodge road behind us. 
 
 Mr. Warrington wasn't in the buckboard, but 
 after it had passed us everybody in it stared 
 at us he stepped out of the bushes at the side 
 of the road. To think that he and Miss War- 
 rington should have seen me with Mr. Fairboro!
 
 SANDPEEP 133 
 
 I shall tell them the first chance I get that it 
 wasn't my fault! 
 
 I couldn't look at Mr. Warrington, I was so 
 flustered; but Mr. Fairboro said in his gay, care- 
 less way I don't think anybody or anything 
 could scare him! 
 
 "Hullo, Brian; thought you went to church 
 with the rest?" 
 
 Mr. Warrington answered very shortly: 
 
 "I changed my mind. Did you find the ser- 
 mon in ' Nature's chapel' edifying?" He lifted 
 his hat to me, as he asked the question of Mr. 
 Fairboro, who answered: 
 
 "I, too, changed my mind, and went to meeting 
 at the schoolhouse; and I enjoyed the sermon 
 hugely!" 
 
 A strange man, who seemed to be waiting for 
 somebody, just then stepped toward us. He 
 took off his hat, and, holding it in his hand, 
 said very politely: 
 
 "Pardon me, gentlemen; can you tell me if 
 the owner of this place would see me to-day? I 
 was told in the village, where I landed yesterday, 
 that an assistant coachman is wanted here, and 
 as I was afraid I should be too late if I waited 
 until to-morrow, I took the liberty of coming 
 to-day." 
 
 Mr. Warrington stopped to speak to the man, 
 and Mr. Fairboro and I walked on up the avenue. 
 Neither of us spoke, and presently Mr. Warring-
 
 134 SANDPEEP 
 
 ton he must have walked very fast caught 
 up with us. 
 
 "You didn't engage that hairy-faced fellow, I 
 hope, Brian?" said Mr. Fairboro. 
 
 "I did. We must have some one hi John's 
 place. This man, who seems to understand his 
 business, and has satisfactory references, will do 
 very well down here. I objected to his beard, 
 but he is forced by a weak throat to wear it." 
 
 They kept on talking about things that didn't 
 interest me. I wondered why they should object 
 to the man's beard; as if a man with a beard 
 couldn't drive a horse as well as one with- 
 out! I would have liked to hurry on, and get to 
 the house before they did, but as I was afraid 
 that wouldn't be manners, I walked with them 
 until we got to the path across the lawn to the 
 side door. Then I asked to be excused, and left 
 them.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 WHAT a dear, secret-keeping little book 
 this is! It lets me do all the telling, 
 and doesn't repeat it to a soul! Now, 
 I must make a record of what has happened in 
 the past week or I may forget some of it, and that 
 would be a pity. When I am an old woman, I 
 shall want to bring back to my mind every single 
 thing I did, heard, saw, when I was a girl. Old 
 folks don't have much to interest them. I shall 
 enjoy reading a good fat book and not a story- 
 book, either! I can see myself sitting beside the 
 kitchen table at home, old, wrinkled, gray hair, 
 specs on, candle close enough for me to see the 
 words plainly, poring, poring over these pages, 
 smiling, having a good time all by myself. That 
 is the only sad thing about it, that aunt will not 
 be there ; for when I am as old as she is now, she 
 will be resting beside father in the little burying- 
 ground in the pasture. I wish it were possible 
 for folks to live one hundred and forty years, 
 then aunt would be with me; and what "a jolly 
 good time," as Mr. Helmsley says, we should 
 have together! 
 
 Well, to begin with four days ago: I had been 
 trying for ever so long to get Geoffrey to call W 
 
 135
 
 136 SANDPEEP 
 
 by its right name, he will say "doublewe" 
 when I tell him it is "double;y0w," when he 
 suddenly slid down from his chair, and ran to 
 the window, exclaiming, ' ' Oh ! oh ! voya 
 voya" or something like it, "see see, my 
 big dog!" 
 
 I followed him to the window and saw the new 
 stableman crossing the lawn, leading a great big 
 dog toward the front of the house. Just then 
 James came to tell me that Mr. Warrington and 
 Dr. Parke were on the terrace and wanted me to 
 come down with Geoffrey. 
 
 We raced down, but Geoffrey beat me, and 
 when I got to the terrace he was hugging and 
 kissing the dog's big, shaggy head, just as if he 
 had always been acquainted with him, and knew 
 he wouldn't bite. The dog acted, too, as if he 
 knew the boy. He licked his face, and wagged 
 his bushy tail, in the glad way dogs have when 
 they are pleased. The doctor and Mr. War- 
 rington were as surprised as I was to see the 
 dog so friendly; but the new man explained 
 that he was very fond of children. 
 
 "Speak English, Geoffrey," Mr. Warrington 
 commanded, when the boy began to chatter 
 French. To me he said, in the same stern tone: 
 "You are not strict enough with your pupil, Miss 
 Brenson; he will never learn to speak English if 
 you are not more strict." 
 
 "He speaks French, sir, only when he is very
 
 SANDPEEP 137 
 
 much excited, or angry," I answered, my face 
 red, for I hated to be scolded before the new 
 man. 
 
 "You must not expect too much of the lad, 
 Brian," allowed my good friend, the doctor. "It 
 is very natural that he should forget sometimes, 
 when he is excited or angry, as Miss Brenson 
 says. / think he does very well, very much 
 better than if he had a teacher who could 
 understand his French jabber." 
 
 I wonder what the doctor and Mr. Warrington 
 would say if they knew I am trying to learn 
 "French jabber?" I found a French lesson- 
 book on a top shelf in the library, and carried it 
 to my room, where I keep it hidden in the closet. 
 I am studying it, but find it pretty hard without a 
 teacher. There are so many letters in some of 
 the words that don't seem to be of any use, I 
 shall never learn to pronounce them right with- 
 out someone to tell me how. 
 
 "What is the dog's name, Malston?" Mr. 
 Warrington asked the new coachman. 
 
 "Bonommy, sir." That is what it sounded like. 
 
 "A ridiculous name for a dog!" Mr. Warring- 
 ton allowed. "It is too long; we must give him 
 a shorter one." 
 
 "Call him Bonny," suggested the doctor. "If 
 it isn't exactly suitable to such a huge beast, it 
 sounds so nearly like the name he is used to that 
 he will not mind the difference,"
 
 138 SANDPEEP 
 
 "And Bonny is such a pretty name," I allowed, 
 patting the shaggy head. I guess he must be 
 fond of big girls as well as of little children, for 
 he looked up at me, and wagged his tail, as 
 much as to say: "Pat me all you've a mind 
 to; I won't bite you." 
 
 "You say he is a good watch-dog?" Mr. War- 
 rington inquired of the man. 
 
 "Yes, sir; one of the best! He has been 
 trained to obey. If you bid him to keep guard, 
 he will not leave the spot until you tell him he 
 may. While he is gentle as a lamb with children, 
 and the people he knows, he is savage as a wolf 
 with strangers who have no business about the 
 premises. I believe he would tear a burglar to 
 pieces." 
 
 "Then he is the sort of dog we want here," 
 allowed Mr. Warrington, looking satisfied. "He 
 is to sleep outside the door of Master Geoffrey's 
 room. Miss Brenson will show you the way to 
 the room now, and you can give her instructions 
 concerning the management of him. You, of 
 course, will attend to feeding him. You know 
 what he requires, I dare say?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; I know how to care for dogs as well 
 as horses." 
 
 "Very good. I am perfectly satisfied with 
 your selection of a dog, and am obliged to you 
 for securing so valuable an animal." 
 
 Malston took off his hat and bowed; then he
 
 SANDPEEP 139 
 
 followed me and Geoffrey across the terrace to 
 the side door. 
 
 When we got to the upper hall, Geoffrey 
 wanted to lead Bonny, but I asked Malston not 
 to let go the chain, as I was afraid the dog 
 might run away. 
 
 "No danger of his doing that, now, Miss! he 
 will follow the little master wherever he goes, 
 without the chain." 
 
 He bent over the dog to unfasten the chain 
 from the collar, and as he did so, whispered 
 something to Geoffrey, who looked up at him, 
 sudden wonder in his big black eyes. Then 
 Geoffrey began to chatter excitedly in French. 
 
 "You must speak English, Geoffrey," I inter- 
 rupted, sternly, for I wasn't going to have Mr. 
 Warrington scold me again. 
 
 "I can understand him, Miss," Malston said, 
 as politely as he would have spoken to one of the 
 Lodge folks. I guess he thought I was one of 
 them. "I learned to speak French in Canada, 
 where I lived before I came here." 
 
 "Oh, can you really speak French?" I ex- 
 claimed, surprised that a man like him should 
 know how. Then I added quickly, too low for 
 Geoffrey, who was ahead of us with the dog, to 
 hear, "You must be very careful never to speak 
 French to the little boy. You see, we want him 
 to speak nothing but English ; and he will not do 
 that, if he knows you can understand French,"
 
 140 SANDPEEP 
 
 "I understand, Miss, and I will be very care- 
 ful. Is Mr. Warrington a French gentleman?" 
 
 "No, at least, I don't think he is, though 
 he can speak French," I answered. 
 
 "It is very strange he doesn't want his little 
 son to speak it, when so many American and 
 English families employ French governesses to 
 teach their children the language. Do you speak 
 it, Miss?" 
 
 "No, I wish I could." 
 
 "It is not a difficult language to learn, Miss." 
 
 "It appears dreadfully hard to me," I an- 
 swered. 
 
 "Then you have studied it, Miss?" 
 
 "I am trying to study it by myself." 
 
 He didn't speak again for several seconds, 
 then, hesitatingly, as if he thought he ought not 
 to say it: "If you will not think I am taking too 
 much liberty, Miss, I might help you; I could 
 explain what seems hard when I come for the dog 
 at feeding time, and in the evening, when I bring 
 him to guard the little master's door." 
 
 Now, just wouldn't I have jumped at such an 
 offer if I hadn't known that Miss Warrington 
 had hired me to teach her little nephew because 
 I don't know French. It isn't treating her just 
 fair, I know, to study it on the sly; but, if I 
 should succeed in learning it, I shall never let 
 anyone know it, as long as I am Geoffrey's 
 teacher. If I should let the stableman help me,
 
 SANDPEEP 141 
 
 somebody about the house would be sure to find 
 it out. So I had to answer, and sorry enough I 
 was to have to do it, too: 
 
 "You are very kind, Mr. Malston, but I can't 
 accept your offer." I guess he thought he had 
 offended me, for he said quickly: 
 
 "I hope you will pardon my impertinence, 
 Miss. I forgot that a man in my position ought 
 not to speak as I did to a young lady like 
 you. But I have not been a stableman always. 
 Misfortune compels me to occupy the menial 
 position." 
 
 I was sorry for him, and said: 
 
 "Oh, please don't think I refused your kind 
 offer because you work in a stable. That doesn't 
 matter in the least, I assure you; but, don't you 
 see, if I were to take French lessons from you, 
 Geoffrey would be sure to find it out. Then 
 I never should be able to make him talk only 
 English." 
 
 "I see, Miss," he answered, "and I thank you 
 from my heart for your friendliness toward a 
 stableman." 
 
 If he thinks working in a stable is such a 
 "menial position," I wonder he doesn't teach 
 school ? He seems smart enough for down 
 here, I mean. Of course, he wouldn't do for a 
 school in Boston. 
 
 It did not take long to learn how to make 
 Bonny mind what I said to him. He has lots
 
 142 SANDPEEP 
 
 more sense than many of the people I am ac- 
 quainted with; and I wonder his owner should 
 sell such a splendid dog. I said so to Malston. 
 
 "I wonder at it, too, Miss," he answered, "but 
 many strange things are done for money; I dare 
 say his owner was very poor." 
 
 "Poverty wouldn't make me sell such a dog," 
 I allowed. "I guess he could catch enough rab- 
 bits, and I could catch enough fish, to keep him 
 and me from starving." 
 
 Malston laughed ; then asked if there wasn't a 
 nearer way he could come to fetch Bonny at meal 
 times, than the side entrance. 
 
 "There is a door at the foot of that stairs," I 
 answered, pointing toward it from the door of 
 Geoffrey's room, where we were standing, "but 
 it is kept locked, and Mr. Warrington has the 
 key." 
 
 "Why, there aren't any burglars in this out-of- 
 the-way place, are there?" he asked, smiling. 
 
 "I have never heard of any here," I answered. 
 A tramp isn't a burglar, so I didn't think I needed 
 to explain. 
 
 "I don't believe there are any," he allowed. 
 "It would be much more convenient for me to 
 come and go that way." 
 
 And because I thought so, too, I made bold to 
 say to Mr. Warrington, when I met him in the 
 hall a little while afterward: 
 
 "Please, Mr. Warrington, won't you let me have
 
 SANDPEEP 143 
 
 the key of the tower-door? Mr. Malston says 
 it would be so much handier for him to come 
 in that way for Bonny. I promise that the door 
 shall be kept locked." 
 
 He looked as if he meant to refuse; then he 
 fetched the key from his room, and handed it 
 to me. 
 
 "Here it is; I will see if you are to be trusted!" 
 
 "You may trust me, sir; and I hope you will 
 believe, too, that I want to please you always " I 
 said. 
 
 "I will believe that, when I become convinced 
 that my orders are obeyed to the letter!" he 
 answered. "Now, be kind enough to tell Janet 
 to prepare Geoffrey as quickly as possible for a 
 ride on his pony." 
 
 When I had seen the boy and his father ride 
 down the avenue, with Malston following them, I 
 sat down to practice for the hour I should be free 
 to do as I chose. I had just begun the pretty 
 waltz I am learning, when James came to tell me 
 that a lady had called to see me. 
 
 "Are you sure she wants to see me?" I asked, 
 without rising from the piano-stool. 
 
 "Yes, Miss; she said: 'I want you should tell 
 Miss Keren Happuch Brenson that a lady has 
 come to call.' " 
 
 It was as much as James could do to keep 
 from laughing. 
 
 "I asked for her name," he went on to tell me,
 
 144 SANDPEEP 
 
 "but she said: 'Never you mind my name, Mr. 
 Whatever-yours-may-be ; you go right along 'n' 
 tell Miss Keren Happuch Brenson that a lady has 
 called to see her. She'll know me very well when 
 she sees me.' ' 
 
 "It sounds like Aunt Hit," I said to myself, 
 and ran down to the small reception-room. It 
 wasn't aunt, but Louine Haskell, of all people 
 in the world! 
 
 There she was, all dressed up in her meeting- 
 frock and bonnet, rocking for dear life in the 
 cushioned arm-chair that rocks without moving 
 on the carpet. 
 
 "Louine Haskell!" I exclaimed, and not as if I 
 were pleased, either. "What brought you here?" 
 
 "Zem's bo't," she answered, and kept on rock- 
 ing. "I hev been call'atin' to call to the Lodge 
 to see you, ever sence you come here, 'n' when 
 Zem told me th' smornin' he was comin' here 
 with the sloop, I jes' made up my mind I'd come 
 with him 'n' here I be. Folks hes got to call 
 to see you, for you don't never call to see them 
 any more." 
 
 "You know very well I haven't got time now 
 to call to see anybody," I answered. 
 
 "Guess you could find time ef you wanted," 
 still rocking hard as she could. "I ain't 's smart 's 
 some folks, Sandpeep Brenson, but I cal'late I do 
 know some things, 'n' one of 'em is: why you hev 
 stopped callin' to our house."
 
 SANDPEEP 145 
 
 "If you know that it is anything but want of 
 time, then you are a lot smarter than I am," I 
 answered, very dignified. Then I asked her if 
 she was going to stop a while. 
 
 "Yes, I be," she snapped. "I know you don't 
 want I should, but old lady Warrin'ton ast 
 me to stop to lunch with you, 'n' I caPlate to 
 do it!" 
 
 "Where did you see Miss Warrington?" I 
 asked, feeling for the first time that that dear, 
 kind lady could make a mistake. 
 
 "Down to the shore; she, 'n' some more Lodge 
 folks went sailin' in the sloop. Who is thet 
 fleshy, sandy-complected woman thet laughs so 
 much?" 
 
 "I think you must mean Mrs. Warrington." 
 
 "Is she the little boy's ma?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then what Mrs. Warrin'ton is she?" 
 
 "She is a widow; her husband was a cousin of 
 this Mr. Warrington." 
 
 "Wall, whoever she be, she laughed like every- 
 thing when I ast old lady Warrin'ton ef she 
 hedn't some o'ts to spare 
 
 "You asked Miss Warrington if she hadn't some 
 o'ts to spare?" I interrupted, oh, so ashamed! 
 I don't wonder the "fleshy, sandy-complected 
 woman" laughed; she laughs at less than that! 
 
 Louine rocked faster than ever as she snapped 
 out:
 
 146 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Yes, I did ast her that, Miss Sandpeep Bren- 
 son! I said I wanted 'em fur Mandy Bascom, 
 who has sech hard gittin' along, now thet her 
 man's hauled up with tubecolossus in his j'ints, 
 'n' her with two infants, 'n' a pig to feed, too. 
 Mandy '11 be pow'ful thankful fur whatever 's 
 left over, 'n' there's like to be a right smart lot, 
 with sech a big fambly to cook fur. Old lady 
 Warrin'ton didn't know 't fust what o'ts wus, 'n' 
 when I told her, she said she'd speak to the 
 housekeeper about savin' 'em fur Mandy. Who 
 is the housekeeper?" 
 
 "Mrs. Gilbert," I answered shortly, for I was 
 vexed with Louine. Then I added : "I wish you 
 would stop calling Miss Warrington 'old lady.' " 
 
 "I shell call her jes' 's I hev a mind to," was 
 the stubborn reply. "She hain't no pullet, with 
 thet gray hair of hern! Where's the little boy's 
 ma?" she asked after a minute. 
 
 "She is dead." 
 
 "Hm m m," nodding her head, and look- 
 ing very knowing. " Widow- woman, 'n' widow- 
 man! I hain't acquainted with widow- weemen's 
 ways ef the little boy don't hev a stepmother to 
 spank him 'fore he's much older!" 
 
 I never was so out of patience with her before ; 
 I just would not take any notice of her sly hint, 
 but said: 
 
 "As you are going to stop here a while, we may 
 as well go up to my room."
 
 SANDPEEP 147 
 
 She stopped rocking, and got up from the chair. 
 
 "I hev been waitin' to be ast to go to see your 
 room," she said; "I wanted to go right to it with 
 the gentleman thet let me in, but he 'lowed I hed 
 better wait here in the settin'-room till he'd find 
 out ef you was to home. He's pow'ful bashful, 
 ain't he?" 
 
 I led the way up-stairs. Louine had to stop 
 every few steps to look at something. Of course 
 everything was new to her, as it had been to me 
 the first day I came to the Lodge. It is per- 
 fectly wonderful how soon a body gets used to 
 things. There is this difference between her and 
 me: I did not let anybody see how surprised I 
 was. I just looked as if I had been used to such 
 things all my life. I guess the reason an owl is 
 called wise is because he looks as if he knew all 
 about everything. 
 
 "Wall!" Louine was panting for breath when 
 we got to the top of the last stairs, "I'm tiyed.'s 
 ef I hed clim' Green Mounting. I shouldn't 
 admire to hev all them steps to come up more 'n 
 oncet a day. You hev got a pianny in your 
 room, sure enough!" she added, when I opened 
 the door. "I didn't more 'n half believe you 
 hed, 'n' thet's why I was cur'us to see with my 
 own eyes. I hev found out," after she had 
 looked slowly around the pretty room, which is 
 larger than our spare-chamber and kitchen put 
 together "what hes set you up so, Keren
 
 148 SANDPEEP 
 
 Brenson, 'n' it's jes 's I told Zem: 'Zem,' s'l, 
 'jes' you mind what I say: Sandpeep '11 git thet 
 set up, livin' to the Lodge, she won't be no fit 
 wife fur you,' s'l, 'n' " 
 
 "You need not trouble yourself about me being 
 no fit wife for Zem," I interrupted; "I wouldn't 
 marry him not for anything." 
 
 "Why, great grief! Keren Brenson," she ex- 
 claimed, her black eyes glaring at me and her 
 black curls shaking with fury. "You talk's ef 
 Zem wa'n't your company hedn't been your 
 company ever sence you put on long frocks. 
 What do you cal'late he's been follerin' 'round 
 after you fur, 'n' doin' everything fur you, all 
 this time, I want to know?" 
 
 I was very angry, but I managed to keep my 
 temper and say quietly: 
 
 "I never once imagined that Zemro would 
 think he was my company, just because aunt and 
 I accepted so many favors from him. I believed 
 he was kind to us because we hadn't father to 
 do for us. I like Zem as a good, kind friend, 
 but" 
 
 "Friend your granny's night-cap!" she 
 snapped, and flung herself into the rocking-chair; 
 it is one of the old-fashioned kind, with rockers, 
 and I expected every minute to see her tumble 
 over backward, she rocked so fast and hard. 
 "You needn't think you kin book- talk me into 
 believin' you never thought Zem was your com-
 
 SANDPEEP 149 
 
 pany. I know'd long ago what'd come of Aunt 
 Hit's boardin' thet consumpted school-teacher. 
 The very day he came I sez to Zem: 'Zem,' s'l, 
 'you jes' mind what I say: Sandpeep '11 git idees/ 
 s'l, 'now they hev the school-teacher to board; 
 you jes' see ef she won't want to be a teacher 
 too" 
 
 "Everybody at the Cove knows that father 
 intended I should be a teacher when I grew up," 
 I interrupted, still very calm, though I was like 
 boiling lard inside. "If he had lived, he would 
 have sent me to a school where I could have 
 learned to be one. Even if Mr. Merion had not 
 come to our house and given me lessons, I should 
 have managed somehow to get education enough 
 to teach the Cove school. Goodness knows it 
 doesn't take a very smart person to do that!" 
 
 "Guess you must cal'late to teach school, or 
 little boys, all the rest of your days, ef you're 
 goin' to stay single," she allowed, real spiteful-like. 
 
 "That is just what I ' cal'late' to do," I an- 
 swered, and her face got red as fire when I 
 mocked her. 
 
 "Think you're smart, don't you?" she 
 snapped. "You're very independent now, Miss 
 Sandpeep Brenson, with your pianny, 'n' your 
 rusticators. But, jes' you wait, 'n' mind what I 
 say: The day'll come when you would be 
 thankful ef Zem would hev you. But he ain't 
 goin' to take anybody's leavin's, Zem hain't!"
 
 ISO SANDPEEP 
 
 "I don't understand what you mean by 'leav- 
 ings,' Louine," I said, the mad inside me near to 
 boiling over. 
 
 "I mean jes' e'zac'ly what I say: Zem ain't 
 goin' to take anybody's leavin's. Ain't every last 
 soul at the Cove sayin' 't Sandpeep Brenson's set- 
 tin' her cap fur thet rusticator 't was to meeting, 
 Sunday?" 
 
 A knock at the door prevented my angry reply 
 and the quarrel which would have followed, for I 
 just wasn't going to stand any more of Louine's 
 hatefulness. 
 
 It was Miss Warrington. The sailing-party 
 had returned, because the roughness of the water 
 had made Miss Helmsley seasick. 
 
 I guess Miss Warrington saw that she was 
 just in time to prevent a squall, but she nodded 
 in a friendly manner to Louine, then said to me: 
 
 "I came up to see if your friend was with you, 
 Miss Brenson. I invited her to stay to luncheon, 
 and thought you might like to have it served up 
 here where you may enjoy it by yourselves 
 wouldn't you?" 
 
 Bless her kind heart ! If she had made a big mis- 
 take by inviting Louine, she had done so thinking 
 to please me. I thanked her, and said it would be 
 lovely to have luncheon in my room if it wouldn't 
 be too much trouble for James to bring it up ; then 
 she said to Louine I guess she read in my face 
 that I wasn't over-pleased with my caller:
 
 SANDPEEP 151 
 
 "If you would like to drive back home, Miss 
 Haskell, instead of going in the boat with your 
 brother, one of the coachmen is going to North 
 Haven in half an hour, and will take you to the 
 Cove. Of course it will shorten your visit to 
 Miss Brenson, but " 
 
 "Guess Miss Brenson 'n' Miss Haskell kin say 
 all they hev got to say to each other by the time 
 the gentleman is ready to start to North Haven," 
 Louine interrupted. "And anyhow, I'd ruther 
 ride in a kerridge 'n' sail sailin' allus makes 
 me sick to my stummick." 
 
 "Very well; I will tell Malston to let you know 
 when he is ready to start, and send James up 
 immediately with your luncheon." 
 
 I followed Miss Warrington to the door, and 
 kissed her hand hard! I guess she understood. 
 If Louine' s call was cut short, I guess it gave her 
 enough to talk about for the rest of her life. I 
 can't say what a relief it was to see her drive 
 down the avenue in the cart, sitting up beside 
 Malston, with her hands crossed over her "stum- 
 mick," just as if she was having her picture 
 taken.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 NEARLY everybody had finished breakfast 
 when Miss Helmsley came into the dining- 
 room on Saturday morning. 
 
 "Am I very late?" she asked, in her pretty, 
 drawling way, as she took her seat next to Mr. 
 Fairboro. 
 
 "If you want breakfast you are late; if you've 
 come for luncheon you are too early," her brother 
 answered. He is always plaguing her. "You 
 must have burned the midnight oil last night, as 
 well as our host. I saw light in his windows 
 'way in the small hours of the night." 
 
 "What were you doing up at that hour?" Mr. 
 Fairboro asked. 
 
 "I got up about two o'clock to close my 
 windows the surf made such a noise and 
 when I saw that you were wakeful, too, War- 
 rington, I had half a mind to pay you a visit, 
 and suggest a friendly pipe." 
 
 "If you had gone to that room," answered Mr. 
 Warrington, "you would have found that you were 
 mistaken. There was no light there last night. I 
 have moved my quarters over to the tower wing." 
 
 "Then someone else was in that room," in- 
 sisted Mr. Helmsley, "for I saw the light." 
 
 152
 
 SANDPEEP 153 
 
 "Did anyone occupy my old room last night, 
 Aunt Elinor?" Mr. Warrington asked. 
 
 "Not that I know! I can't imagine who can 
 have been there if Jack really saw a light." 
 
 "// I really saw a light! Now Miss War- 
 rington!" 
 
 She laughed, then apologized for doubting his 
 word, and Mr. Warrington asked James, who 
 came in with some breakfast for Miss Helmsley : 
 
 "Were you in my room over the billiard-room, 
 late last night, James?" 
 
 "No, sir; I heard someone it was after mid- 
 night stumble over the rug at the foot of the 
 stairs, but I thought it must be one of the gentle- 
 men. " 
 
 "Who would naturally be in a condition to 
 stumble over rugs at that hour," Mr. Fairboro 
 allowed. 
 
 "Rugs on a polished floor," said Dr. Parke, 
 folding his napkin carefully, "are man- traps, 
 whatever his condition, Car! If I had my way, 
 they would never be found on a floor unless they 
 were nailed down hard and fast. But about 
 this mysterious light, Brian: Are you perfectly 
 sure of your servants' honesty?" 
 
 "Perfectly! They have been in our service 
 long enough to have been thoroughly tested : 
 
 "Malston," interrupted Miss Warrington, "the 
 second coachman, is the only one who has not 
 been with us for years; but Donald says he is
 
 154 SANDPEEP 
 
 perfectly honest and trustworthy. One of the 
 maids, or Mrs. Gilbert, may have gone to that 
 room, though I cannot imagine what would take 
 her there. I will make inquiries after break- 
 fast." 
 
 I was on my way to the "schoolroom," as we 
 call the small chamber in the tower-wing, where 
 Geoffrey says his lessons and keeps his play- 
 things, when Miss Warrington called to me 
 from the door of her room. I went back and 
 she said: 
 
 "Geoffrey is going fishing with his father and 
 Dr. Parke, Miss Brenson, so, if you like, you may 
 ride as far as the Cove with Malston, who is 
 going to drive to North Haven this morning, 
 instead of waiting until this afternoon. The lad 
 deserves the half-holiday for his diligence the past 
 week," she added, smiling. 
 
 "He has been a very good boy ever since 
 Bonny came," I allowed. "The dog lies outside 
 the schoolroom door, quiet as a mouse, until 
 lessons are over, then you ought to see how 
 nicely he plays with Geoffrey on the lawn! He 
 is a splendid playmate." 
 
 "I am glad the dog has made your task lighter, 
 my dear. Now, you must make haste, or Mal- 
 ston will be ready to start before you are." 
 
 She went into, her room, and I ran on up to 
 my own. I was glad of the unexpected holiday, 
 for there was much I wanted to do for aunt.
 
 SANDPEEP 155 
 
 Besides, if I waited until afternoon, Miss War-- 
 rington, as well as Zemro, would expect me to 
 go in the sloop. 
 
 When I came down from the tower-top, ready 
 to start, the cart was waiting at the side door. 
 There is this difference between me and the Lodge 
 folks; they always start from the front door, I, 
 always from the side. I never knew there was a 
 difference between folks until I came here. 
 
 Bonny was sitting in the road in front of the 
 horse, looking very sober and dignified; but 
 when we started, and Malston said: "Come 
 along, old fellow," he frisked around and barked, 
 as playfully as would a little dog. 
 
 "What a perfectly splendid dog Bonny is!" I 
 said, as he raced down the road ahead of us. 
 
 "Yes, he is a fine animal," agreed Malston, 
 "but if what they say at the stables is true, he is 
 not as good a watch-dog as the man who sold 
 him to me said he was." 
 
 "What do they say at the stable?" I asked. 
 
 "That someone broke into the house last night, 
 and robbed Mr. Warrington's room. Hadn't you 
 heard of it?" 
 
 "I heard one of the gentlemen say at breakfast 
 that he saw a light last night in the room Mr. 
 Warrington used to sleep in; but nothing was 
 said about a robbery. If Mr. Helmsley really 
 saw a light in the room, I don't think a stranger 
 was there."
 
 15$ SANDPEEP 
 
 "What makes you think it wasn't a stranger, 
 Miss?" 
 
 " Because a stranger couldn't get into that 
 house with every door bolted and Bonny on 
 watch." 
 
 "A burglar who knows his trade can get into 
 any house, Miss. Locks and bolts can't keep 
 him out. I suppose Mr. Warrington changed his 
 room because the waves make such a noise on 
 that side of the house? I couldn't sleep there, 
 either." 
 
 I wasn't going to tell him why Mr. Warrington 
 had moved over to the tower-wing, so I just said : 
 
 "The waves do make a fearful noise some- 
 times. That is how Mr. Helmsley came to be 
 awake so late, and to see the light." 
 
 After several seconds, Malston said carelessly: 
 
 "I suppose Mr. Warrington moved over to the 
 tower-wing to be near Master Geoffrey, as much 
 as to get away from the noise of the waves? He 
 seems very fond of the little boy." 
 
 "Why shouldn't he be fond of his own son?" I 
 answered. "Geoffrey is a very pretty boy, even 
 if he isn't as smart as he might be." 
 
 "Yes, he is a pretty child," agreed Malston. 
 After a few minutes he said: "I am so happy, 
 Miss; my sister is coming to live with me in 
 that little cottage in the woods, back of the 
 Lodge grounds. You know where it is, don't 
 you?"
 
 SANDPEEP 157 
 
 I said I did; and wondered that anybody 
 thought of living in the old house, which has not 
 been occupied as long as I can remember. The 
 Cove folks say it is "ha'nted" and that spooks 
 have been seen there, but I didn't tell Malston 
 that. 
 
 " As John is not coming back this summer," he 
 went on to explain, "his wife is too sick, I be- 
 lieve, I am to have his place while the family 
 remains here. So I have sent for my sister, who 
 lived with me in Canada, and we are going to fix 
 up the little cottage, and make our home there. 
 My sister, Miss, can speak French and would be 
 glad to teach you, if you still want to learn." 
 
 "And I should just love to take lessons if Miss 
 Warrington wouldn't object. How much would 
 she charge?" 
 
 "Nothing at all, Miss; she would consider 
 your company for an hour now and then pay 
 enough, for she will be alone all day." 
 
 I was tempted. It was such a good chance. 
 I thought over it for several seconds, then said: 
 
 "I don't believe Miss Warrington would ob- 
 ject, if I promised never to let Geoffrey know I 
 could understand him." 
 
 "I don't believe she would, Miss. She ought 
 not to object to your learning what would be of 
 use to you after a while. You will be teaching 
 other children some day, and will need to know 
 French."
 
 158 SANDPEEP 
 
 "And music, too," I added. "I should like to 
 study both French and music." 
 
 "My sister can play a little on the piano," 
 Malston allowed. "She is out of practice, of 
 course, for we haven't a piano now; but I think 
 she could teach you what she knows." 
 
 "Of course she could! and she may practice 
 all she wants on the piano in my room," I said 
 heartily. " I know Miss Warrington will not ob- 
 ject to music lessons, but I don't think I ought to 
 ask your sister to do so much for me without pay." 
 
 "Please do not speak of paying her, Miss; she 
 would be hurt. You will be showing her a great 
 kindness by allowing her to enjoy your society. 
 My dear sister is not what you would expect the 
 sister of a man who works in a stable to be. She 
 is quite worthy to associate with ladies like 
 yourself." 
 
 As if I would mind that she was poor, and the 
 sister of a man that worked in a stable ! I, who 
 used to be a "codfish snatcher," as I have heard 
 our longshore fishers called ! 
 
 "When is your sister coming?" I asked. 
 
 "Next week, Miss. I am having a man fix up 
 the cottage." 
 
 " Is she young about my age ? " 
 
 "Much older, Miss! She is only a few years 
 younger than I am." 
 
 I guess he didn't tell me how old he is, because 
 his sister doesn't want her age to be known;
 
 SANDPEEP 159 
 
 some folks are like that; aunt and she ought 
 to know says Louine Haskell is past forty, but 
 Louine gets mad as fire when you say she's more 
 than twenty-five. 
 
 "Is she married or single?" I asked Malston. 
 
 "She is a widow." 
 
 "Poor soul! Has she any children?" 
 
 "She lost her only child, a beautiful boy, about 
 a year ago." 
 
 "Oh, the poor soul!" I said again. "Where 
 is she now?" 
 
 "In Montreal, Miss, where Bonny came from." 
 
 "Has she seen the dog?" 
 
 "Yes, Miss, often; he knows her very well." 
 
 "That is good; he will not growl at her when 
 she comes to the tower to call on me." 
 
 "No, Miss, he won't growl at her," Malston 
 agreed, and he added after a minute: "I can't 
 help but think of what happened last night. I 
 would not have believed that burglars would 
 think it worth while to come to this out-of-the- 
 way place. Have you ever heard of tramps or 
 burglars here before?" 
 
 "I have never heard of anyone breaking into 
 any of the houses around here," I answered. I 
 wasn't going to disobey orders, and tell him 
 about my tramp. "Indeed, until the city folks 
 came here there wasn't anything worth stealing. 
 A burglar wouldn't need to break into a Cove 
 house; we never think of locking our doors."
 
 i6o SANDPEEP 
 
 "When people," Malston allowed, "are so par- 
 ticular about locking up everything, you may be 
 always sure there's something worth stealing 
 silver, jewelry, money, and other valuables." 
 
 Though I feel sure that it isn't on account of 
 the valuables in the Lodge that Mr. Warrington 
 is so particular about locking the doors, I didn't 
 say so to Malston; and neither of us spoke again 
 until we got to the wood-road. I wanted to walk 
 the rest of the way to surprise aunt, who wasn't 
 expecting me so early. 
 
 "May I tell my sister you will call soon to see 
 about the lessons?" he asked, when I had got 
 down from the cart. 
 
 "You may tell her I will call; but don't say 
 anything about lessons until I have spoken to 
 Miss Warrington." 
 
 He laid his fingers against his hat in the 
 funny way he and Donald have when spoken 
 to, and drove on; and I turned into the wood- 
 road. 
 
 I didn't take the path across the pasture, for I 
 didn't want aunt to see me; but stole along the 
 fence and through the bushes to the shed, where 
 I took off my hat, pinned up the skirt of my 
 frock, and rolled up my sleeves; then, with the 
 broom and the scrubbing pail in my hands, I 
 walked into the kitchen, laughing to myself at 
 how surprised aunt would be. But she wasn't in 
 the kitchen or anywhere about the house. The
 
 SANDPEEP 161 
 
 door was wide open, so was the one into the 
 spare-chamber, but no Aunt Hit was to be found. 
 
 "I don't think a burglar would want to steal 
 anything here," I said to myself, after I had 
 hunted all over the house, as if aunt was a 
 mouse, and could hide in a little corner. 
 
 As I hadn't really intended to scrub with my good 
 frock on, I exchanged it for the old one I always 
 wear to work in, and the long canvas apron, made 
 out of one ot the Keren's old sails, and got to 
 work, determined to surprise aunt another way; 
 she should find her floors nicely scrubbed when she 
 came back, and the scrubber nowhere in sight! 
 
 In brushing the cobwebs and dust from the 
 little shelf on which we keep the two or three old 
 books we have had for years, one of them, a 
 government book about fish, that somebody sent 
 to father, fell on the floor, and all the things be- 
 tween the leaves were scattered. 
 
 "There! I do seem to possess the gift of 'clut- 
 terin',' as aunt says!" I exclaimed, vexed at hav- 
 ing to stop to pick up all the bits of ribbon, cards, 
 a lock of yellow hair tied with a red string, and 
 lastly, from under the stove, a folded paper. 
 
 I had no recollection of seeing this paper be- 
 fore, so I sat back on my heels to examine it. It 
 was a certificate of marriage; the names of the 
 bride and groom were Angela Marcinet, and Brian 
 MacGregor Warrington. It was signed by Elihu 
 Willets, Justice of the Peace, Headlands, State
 
 162 SANDPEEP 
 
 of .Maine; and the witness's name was Peleg 
 Brenson ! 
 
 "Well, of all things!" I exclaimed. "How in 
 the world did this get into the old government 
 book? Angela Marcinet and Brian MacGregor 
 Warrington. I wonder yes it must be it is 
 Mr. Lodge Warrington; and Angela Marcinet was 
 the finger-ring lady. No wonder he made me 
 think of the fiddlestring gentleman! Well, just 
 can't the strangest things happen! " 
 
 I forgot all about surprising aunt; and, 
 squatted there on the damp floor, thought over 
 the discovery I had made and wondered I had 
 never thought of it before. 
 
 "That is why," I said to myself, "Mr. War- 
 rington knew so well where I lived, the day he 
 came to see Zem. I might have guessed he was 
 the fiddlestring gentleman, when he told aunt he 
 had been in this neighborhood before, though he 
 doesn't look much like the tall young man who 
 drew the picture of the 'mermaid.' If Angela 
 had come back, I feel sure I should have known 
 her. There would be no moustache to change 
 her looks, poor pretty lady! And to think she 
 was Geoffrey's mother. He looks like her, too; 
 not a single bit like Mr. Warrington! 
 
 ".I think it is very strange he never spoke of 
 having been at our house that time. I dare say 
 it grieves him too much to think of the lovely 
 wife he has lost. Poor gentleman! How very
 
 Well, just can't the strangest tilings happen ! " PAGE 162
 
 SANDPEEP 163 
 
 strangely things come about! After so many 
 years, to find out all about what puzzled me more 
 times than I can tell!" I didn't know what I 
 ought to do with the certificate, so I put it back 
 in the book, thinking to tell Mr. Warrington 
 about it on Monday. 
 
 I hadn't quite finished my work, when Zemro 
 came running across the door-yard, and into the 
 kitchen. I was surprised to see him, for I thought 
 him out in the sloop with Mr. Warrington and 
 the doctor. 
 
 "Gosh, Sandpeep," he was quite out of 
 breath, " I'm thankful you're to home. I run up 
 here like a scart deer. I want you should sail the 
 sloop. Louine's awful sick, reely 'n' truly! 
 took a bad cold yistiddy, 'n' it's settled on her 
 chist; you'll come right away, won't you? else 
 he'll git mad 's fire, hevin' to wait." 
 
 "How did you know I was here?" I asked. 
 
 "I found out you hed come home, when I went 
 back to the Lodge fur the cod-lines the doctor'd 
 forgot. When we was sailin' past the Cove, I 
 see Aunt Hit standin' on our stoop, a-wavin' her 
 apurn like she was possessed, 'n' knowed there 
 was something the matter, 'n' ast Mr. Warrin'ton 
 ef I might come ashore 'n' see. He 'lowed I 
 might, though I could see he wa'n't pleased, 'n' I 
 rowed ashore. The doctor come with me, 'n' he 
 says Louine's got plural pneumony, 'n' 'n' " 
 gulping down a sob poor boy, he is fond of
 
 164 SANDPEEP 
 
 Louine, if she is disagreeable "folks die when 
 they git thet." 
 
 "She may not be as sick as you think, Zem," 
 I said, taking off my apron. 
 
 "Yes, she's awful sick. I know by the way 
 the doctor talked; he said I must stop to home. 
 So I want you should sail the sloop. I wouldn't 
 ast you ef there was anybody else handy enough 
 to git, but the Cove men's all out mack'relin'. 
 Do hurry up, Sandpeep; he'll git thet all-fired 
 mad hevin' to wait so long." 
 
 I caught my sunbonnet from the hook behind 
 the kitchen door, where aunt keeps it, because, 
 she says, it looks like I was at home, and ran 
 with Zem down the path. I stopped only long 
 enough to kiss aunt, and hear from the doctor 
 that Louine was really very poorly. "You can 
 explain to Mr. Warrington," he added, "why I 
 remain here, and why you take HaskelPs place. 
 The young man is needed at home." 
 
 Then I ran down to the shore, where Zemro 
 was waiting to shove out the dory; as he did so, 
 he said: 
 
 "I'm pow'ful obleeged to you, Sandpeep." 
 
 "You are very welcome, I'm sure, Zem," I 
 answered, taking my seat, and adjusting the 
 oars. "I am only too thankful to do something 
 in return for the many favors you have done for 
 me and aunt." 
 
 His face brightened as the water does some-
 
 SANDPEEP 165 
 
 times, when the sun shines suddenly from be- 
 tween the gray clouds of a squall. 
 
 "Some day," he called after me, as I pulled 
 away, "I shell ast you to do something else for 
 me; something thet'll pay me back, 'n' more, too, 
 for all thet I ever done fur you 'n' Aunt Hit." 
 
 Poor Zem! Why won't he understand that I 
 cannot will not, do what he means to ask me ? 
 
 When I stepped on board the sloop, Mr. War- 
 rington, who looked, if not exactly "all-fired 
 mad," very much out of patience, asked me what 
 had happened. Poor little Geoffrey was lying, 
 pale as death, on the thwart, with the doctor's 
 overcoat over him. 
 
 "Louine Haskell is very sick, sir," I answered, 
 while making fast the dory's painter. "Dr. 
 Parke told me to tell you that Zemro would 
 have to stay at home; and I have come to take 
 his place. I hope you won't mind, sir; I know 
 how to sail the sloop almost as well as he does." 
 
 "I don't doubt your ability," he answered, 
 looking pleasanter. "I should not trouble you 
 to sail the sloop back to the Lodge if my son 
 were not with me; but, with him on board, I 
 don't care to undertake it by myself. I have 
 not sailed a boat since I was a lad at school." 
 
 "I am sorry you and the doctor will not have 
 the day's fishing you planned, sir," I remarked, 
 when the sails were set, and the sloop was cut- 
 ting through the water like a duck.
 
 166 SANDPEEP 
 
 "It is just as well," he allowed, looking at 
 Geoffrey. "I don't believe my son could have 
 stood it all day; he is very sick already." 
 
 As he did not seem to want to talk, I decided 
 to wait until some other time to tell him about 
 finding the certificate. It was a good chance for 
 a close look at him, for his eyes were watching 
 the water, not as if he saw it, but as if that was 
 as good a place as any other to stare at while 
 his thoughts were far away. I wondered, as I 
 looked at him, why I had not recognized him 
 that first day on the shore. It was the same 
 face, only older, of course; the same steel-gray 
 eyes; the same wrinkle between the eyebrows, 
 only the moustache to make a change in the 
 face of the fiddlestring gentleman I remembered. 
 
 "I believe you told me Haskell bought this 
 boat from you, didn't you?" 
 
 He asked the question so suddenly that I al- 
 most let go the tiller. 
 
 "Yes, sir; aunt sold it to him when I gave up 
 fishing. A girl can't very well do a man's work 
 in all sorts of weather; and there's not much to 
 be made when a body works only when it is fair. 
 We hated to part with the dear old sloop, for it 
 seemed almost like parting with father over again. 
 He built her, you see. But selling her to Zemro 
 wasn't nearly so bad as if a stranger had bought 
 her and taken her away." 
 
 "Doctor Parke has told me of your brave effort
 
 SANDPEEP 167 
 
 to follow your father's calling," Mr. Warrington 
 remarked, kindly. "It must have been very hard 
 and disagreeable work for a girl like you." 
 
 "It was very hard sometimes; but I didn't 
 mind it in fair weather, and I don't believe I 
 would have given it up if aunt hadn't worried 
 so every time I happened to be caught out in 
 a storm. One afternoon, late in October, when 
 we may look out for gales along this coast, I was 
 over near the islands, lifting lobster traps, and a 
 gale rose suddenly. Before I could reef the sail, 
 the sloop was blown clean out to sea. I dare say 
 I should never have been heard of again if the 
 light-keeper on Baker's, who was out, too, in 
 his boat, hadn't seen me, and sailed after me. 
 He caught up with me just in time, for I had 
 sprained my wrist, trying to haul in sail in 
 such a hurry, and couldn't do a thing. He 
 took me home with him and made me stop 
 with his wife till the next morning. Of course 
 poor aunt thought I was drowned, and she 
 was almost out of her mind. She wouldn't 
 hear to my going out fishing again, so we sold 
 the sloop to Zemro." 
 
 I didn't tell him we just had to sell her to get 
 money to keep us. There wasn't any other way 
 to earn a living but fishing, then; rusticators 
 weren't as "thick as blackberries," as Zem says. 
 That is one good thing they have done for us 
 longshore folks, anyhow. They have given us
 
 168 SANDPEEP 
 
 work, and we ought to be thankful, instead of 
 growling at them for coming here. 
 
 I shifted the boom; then, when we were cut- 
 ting along again, I stole a look at my silent com- 
 panion. I could see only the lower part of his 
 face; he had pulled the rim of his cap over his 
 eyes, so I could not tell from his chin and mous- 
 tache whether he was interested or not, or, 
 indeed, whether he had heard me at all! 
 
 "I guess this tack will take us into the Lodge 
 anchorage," I allowed, after a minute. "We 
 haven't been very long coming." 
 
 "No," pushing back the cap from his eyes to 
 look at his watch. "The sloop is running like a 
 race-horse." 
 
 "She's a smart boat, sir," I answered proudly. 
 "Father used to say he'd match her against any 
 racing vessel, and would win, too. He was very 
 proud of her." 
 
 "Yes, I heard him sing her praises." 
 
 "Then you do remember, after all, sir?" I 
 exclaimed, pleased to hear him say that he did. 
 
 "Yes, I remember." 
 
 That was all he said, and the way he said it 
 gave me to understand that it was all he intended 
 to say about it. So, of course, the time to tell 
 him about the certificate hadn't come yet. 
 
 When we were nearing the Lodge cove, I saw 
 that two people were on the cliff watching us, 
 and told Mr. Warrington. He looked at them
 
 SANDPEEP 169 
 
 through his double spy-glass he calls it a 
 "field-glass" then said: "Miss Helmsley and 
 Mr. Fairboro." 
 
 A few minutes later we were within hailing 
 distance and Mr. Fairboro called through his 
 hands: "What has happened? Where is the 
 doctor and your skipper?" 
 
 They could not have understood Mr. Warring- 
 ton's answer, for Mr. Fairboro came running 
 down the cliff-path to the shore, where he was 
 waiting when we rowed in from the sloop. 
 
 After Mr. Warrington told him what had hap- 
 pened, he said to me, noticing that I did not 
 get out of the dory with Mr. Warrington and 
 Geoffrey: "You are not going to sail home by 
 yourself, are you?" 
 
 I said I was, and Mr. Warrington added: 
 
 "Miss Brenson can manage a sailboat as skill- 
 fully asHaskell " 
 
 "Then I'll ship with her as second officer," Mr. 
 Fairboro interrupted, and was going to step into 
 the dory, when Mr. Warrington drew him back. 
 
 "I want you to do something for me, Car," he 
 said ; and before Mr. Fairboro, who looked dread- 
 fully vexed, could say another word, I pushed 
 off. I could hear him talk in an angry tone as 
 they climbed the cliff-path, and I laughed to my- 
 self that Mr. Warrington should be so dreadfully 
 afraid. After all I said to him, to still believe 
 I would set my cap for his handsome cousin!
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 IT was late in the afternoon when I got back to 
 the Cove. Only aunt was with Louine. The 
 
 doctor had gone back to the Lodge Mr. War- 
 rington had sent a horse for him and Zemro 
 had gone to fetch his cousin from the Headlands. 
 
 Louine was very sick. Her face and hands 
 were hot as fire; every breath seemed to give 
 her pain, and rattled in her chest and throat. 
 
 "She's pow'ful low," aunt whispered, as we 
 tiptoed from the spare-chamber into the kitchen; 
 "She ain't long fur this world; I heerd an owl 
 screech last night." 
 
 "Aunt Hit Brenson!" I exclaimed; "as if owls 
 didn't screech somewhere every night!" 
 
 "An' hain't folks dyin' somewheres every day, 
 I want to know?" 
 
 "Yes, hundreds of them; but not because owls 
 screech. But there! don't let us argufy; I am 
 most starved. I haven't had a mite to eat since 
 breakfast. I'll run over home and get some 
 supper, then I'll stay with Louine until Zemro 
 comes back. You must be pretty tired, you poor 
 dear!" I smoothed the thin hair back from her 
 forehead, and added the idea had suddenly 
 popped into my head "Aunt dear, if I make a 
 
 170
 
 SANDPEEP 171 
 
 real pretty cap, all trimmed with lace and ribbon, 
 will you wear it?" 
 
 "No, mawm, I sha'n't," she answered, very de- 
 cidedly. 
 
 "But you would look so handsome in a cap," 
 I urged. 
 
 "You go 'long with your blarney, Sandpeep 
 Brenson," giving me a push with her elbow; 
 " 's ef I should look handsome in anything! 
 Hain't I see myself in a lookin'-glass?" 
 
 "You would look handsome," I insisted, "and 
 I should just love to see you in a cap. All nice 
 old ladies wear caps. Miss Warrington wears 
 one in the morning, and she's lots younger than 
 you. And then, a cap would hide this big lump." 
 I softly touched my ringer to the unsightly wen. 
 
 "Ef I hed stole thet lump, Sandpeep Brenson," 
 she allowed, "mebbe I should want to hide it 
 with a cap. But it growed there of itself, 'n' I 
 hain't no call to want to hide it. Jes' so long 's 
 I have any hair on my old head, I hain't goin' to 
 wear anything on it 'ceptin' my bunnit when I 
 go to meetin'. Now, you jes' go 'long, 'n' git 
 you something to eat." 
 
 I kissed her wrinkled cheek, and left the 
 kitchen. When I went back, Zemro and his 
 cousin, Acquia Perkins, were there; aunt had 
 gone home. Acquia, with her sleeves rolled to 
 her elbows and the skirt of her frock pinned up 
 under a big apron, was bustling about in the
 
 172 SANDPEEP 
 
 helpful way of some women who know just what 
 needs to be done, and don't stand around, "of 
 no more use than a bump on a log," as father 
 used to say. When I asked Acquia, who was 
 beating up something in a dish, if there was any- 
 thing I could do to help her I guess I am a 
 "useless bump" I ought to have known what 
 to do without asking she answered briskly : 
 
 "You jes' go 'n' set by Louine till I make this 
 poultice 'n' git some supper fur Zemro. Poor 
 boy! he'll need all his stren'th fur what's comin'." 
 
 "I'll stay with you all night, if you like," I 
 said. I didn't want to stay, but I felt that it 
 was my duty. 
 
 "Guess you hed better. Zemro's dog-tired, 
 'n' hed ought to git some rest. You 'n' me kin 
 take turn about tendin' to Louine." 
 
 I made up my mind to do the best I could, 
 and went into the spare-chamber to sit by Louine. 
 Her eyes were shut; one hand clutched at the 
 quilt over her chest, as if she wanted to pull it 
 off; the other was lying on the pillow above her 
 head. Her breathing sounded just dreadful. I 
 touched the hand on the pillow, to feel if it was 
 hot. She opened her eyes and stared wildly at 
 me, as if she didn't know me. 
 
 "Raise up my head," she gasped. 
 
 I did so and put another pillow under her. 
 
 "Hes Zem fetched thet guggle fur my 
 throat?" she asked, hardly able to speak.
 
 SANDPEEP 173 
 
 I couldn't see anything that looked like a gar- 
 gle on the table by the bedside, and said I would 
 ask Zemro. 
 
 " No no I want you should stay here ! " 
 She caught my hand, drew me nearer, and began 
 to talk again in such a low whisper that I had to 
 put my ear close to her lips to hear: 
 
 "I hev something I want to say to you. 
 I want you should " such a terrible spell of 
 coughing interrupted her that I was afraid she 
 would choke. 
 
 "Don't try to talk, Louine," I begged. "I am 
 going to stay here all night. You will be better 
 by morning; then you can tell me what you 
 want me to do for you." 
 
 " 'Tain't fur me it's fur Zem. I want you 
 should promise Zem won't hev no one when 
 I'm gone, 'n' I want you promise to to " 
 
 Another fit of coughing prevented her from 
 saying what it was she wanted me to do; but I 
 guessed it, and not even the pity I felt could 
 have forced me to promise I would do what she 
 asked. 
 
 "Please don't try to talk any more now, 
 Louine," I interrupted, when she began again. 
 "The doctor says you must keep very quiet. If 
 you talk, you excite yourself, and that makes 
 your cough worse." 
 
 "I will git excited I will git worse I will jes' 
 die ef you won't promise I tell you I will "
 
 174 SANDPEEP 
 
 Again the cough, and this time it was so severe 
 I was sure she would die. I ran to the door and 
 called Acquia. 
 
 " Oh come, come quick! Louine is chok- 
 ing. I. am dreadfully scared," and I was near to 
 crying. 
 
 "Yes yes I was jes' comin' with the 
 poultice," she answered, bustling into the room. 
 " Guess 'tain't 's bad 's you think, child. You're 
 jes' like all girls, easy scart. 'Tain't everybody 
 takes to sick-nussin' nat'ral-like. You wash up 
 them dishes, 'n' tend to Zemro, 'n' I'll stay with 
 Louine. Guess you won't be scart of him!" she 
 added, with a smile that made my face redden. 
 
 When I had wiped the dishes and put them 
 back on the table under the netting, I went out 
 to the stoop. Zemro was coming in with an arm- 
 ful of wood. He stopped to ask in a low, anxious 
 tone how Louine was; he had been crying, I 
 could tell by his eyes. 
 
 "About the same," I answered. "Acquia is 
 putting the poultice on her chest." 
 
 After he had laid the wood in the box carefully, 
 stick by stick, and not all at once, as at other 
 times, he tiptoed out to the stoop, and sat down 
 beside me. 
 
 "Did he jaw th' safternoon?" he asked, smooth- 
 ing Louine's kitty, which was cuddled on my lap. 
 
 "Of whom are you speaking?" I asked, "book- 
 talking" on purpose, for I felt vexed.
 
 SANDPEEP 175 
 
 "Why, Mr. Warrin'ton, of course." 
 
 "Then why didn't you say so? How am I to 
 know of whom you are speaking, with your 'lies' 
 and 'hirns'?" 
 
 "You hedn't ought to be snappy to me now, 
 Sandpeep," he said, and he looked as if he were 
 going to cry. 
 
 It was mean of me, when he was in such 
 trouble, so I said in a kinder tone: 
 
 "Mr. Warrington didn't 'jaw,' as you call it. 
 He wouldn't be likely to mind your staying at 
 home when your sister is so sick. He is a very 
 kind-hearted gentleman." 
 
 "Guess he senses there's something between 
 you 'n' me," Zemro allowed, after a minute. 
 
 It made me cross again. 
 
 "If Mr. Warrington senses that, he is not as 
 smart as I think he is," I snapped. " I wish you 
 wouldn't talk so silly, Zemro. There isn't anything 
 between me and you, and, what's more, there 
 never will be." 
 
 "Be you reely 'n' truly in airnest, Sandpeep?" 
 looking at me with sorrow and anger in his face. 
 
 "I am really and truly in earnest." 
 
 " 'N' I hain't no more to you 'n' any other of 
 the fellows 'round here?" 
 
 "I won't say that, Zem, for I like you a good 
 deal better than any of the other boys. I like 
 you just as I would a brother if " 
 
 "Brother be dummed!" he interrupted, and
 
 176 SANDPEEP 
 
 wickedly kicked into the grass a poor toad that 
 had hopped to the stoop after a bug. "I don't 
 want to be no brother to you, Sandpeep. All 
 the Cove folks say 't you 'n' me's promised. 
 Mandy Bascom told Louine yistiddy thet Mis' 
 Higgins hed ast her how soon you 'n' me cal'- 
 lated gittin' spliced." 
 
 -I was too angry to answer kindly, and deter- 
 mined not to quarrel with him then; so I just 
 didn't say anything. 
 
 Zemro misunderstood my silence and he 
 went on: 
 
 "Even ef Louine should git well again, which 
 I'm afeerd she won't," gulping down a sob, 
 "I know she'd be willin' you should hev command 
 of the cow, 'n' the pig, 'n' the hens, 'n' only ast 
 to hev leave to sell the bossies to the bootcher, 
 fur her share; 'n' I " 
 
 "Oh, do stop!" I interrupted, jumping up so 
 suddenly that, for once, a pussy-cat didn't fall on 
 her feet. "I won't listen to another word, now 
 or ever again." 
 
 I felt as if I should choke if I kept back the 
 angry words which crowded to my lips; so I ran, 
 fast as I could, across the pasture, into the wood- 
 road, where the swamp-robins and peabody- 
 birds were singing their evening song in the 
 tree-tops. 
 
 It was already quite dark in the narrow road, 
 and with tears blinding my eyes, I could hardly
 
 SANDPEEP 177 
 
 see where I stepped ; so I sat down on a big rock 
 by the side of the road, to have my cry out where 
 nobody could hear or see me. 
 
 I must have made considerable noise, for I 
 never heard aunt come stumbling over the rocks 
 and splashing through the puddles until she was 
 close beside me. 
 
 "Why, Sandpeep! Is't you thet's cryin' out 
 here all by yourself?" She squeezed down on 
 the rock beside me, and began to pat my shoulder 
 as she used to when I was a tiny girl, and had 
 hurt myself. "What be you cryin' fur? Did 
 you hurt you?" 
 
 "No no!" was all the answer I could give. 
 
 "Guess you're scart," she allowed, after a 
 minute; "I hedn't ought to let you go back to 
 Louine's. I hed ought to knowed you couldn't 
 stand bein' 'round sick folks. You jes' come along 
 home, now, 'n' I'll make you a cup of mint tea." 
 
 Soon I grew calm enough to say: "I'm 
 ashamed of myself, aunt; but I couldn't help 
 it, I felt so dreadfully." 
 
 "Jes' so," she agreed. "I know jes' how you 
 felt, dearie. I hev felt the same way, 'n' hev 
 cried, too, jes' like I hed the sturricks." 
 
 I wonder if ever the dear old soul had hysterics 
 because somebody wanted her to take command 
 of his cow, and pig, and hens? 
 
 The sound of wheels bumping along the road 
 made us get up from the rock and step into the
 
 i?8 SANDPEEP 
 
 bushes, to let the wagon pass. It was a buggy, 
 and in it were Dr. Parke and Mr. Fairboro. I 
 told aunt to keep still, and they would not 
 see us. 
 
 Bumpity-bump ! swish-swash! over the rocks, 
 into the puddles, went the wheels. 
 
 "Well, this is certainly the very worst road I 
 ever travelled over!" Mr. Fairboro exclaimed, 
 and directly afterward came a sound as of some- 
 thing breaking. "There, something's busted!" 
 
 Something had "busted," sure enough. The 
 buggy stopped in front of our hiding place, and 
 Mr. Fairboro jumped out, right into a big pud- 
 dle, I could tell from the squashy sound. 
 
 "I'll be condemned!" he exclaimed I could 
 hardly keep from laughing when I heard Zem- 
 ro's favorite swear word "My precious patent 
 leathers are ruined!" 
 
 "Serves you right!" said the doctor with a 
 laugh; "I warned you not to come. Now that 
 you are in the mire, just stay there long enough 
 to examine the broken spring. See if it will bear 
 our weight to the Cove." 
 
 Through the branches I could see Mr. Fairboro 
 stoop and fumble with his hands under the buggy. 
 
 "I can't find the break. It's too dark to see, 
 and I haven't a single match. Have you any?" 
 
 "No left them in my other coat. Do you 
 think we might venture further without breaking 
 down entirely?"
 
 SANDPEEP 179 
 
 "I can't tell. We had better lighten the load. 
 You drive on, and I'll wait around here until 
 you come back. I want to hear the New England 
 nightingale, anyhow. I have been told that the 
 peabody-bird sings here quite late in the evening." 
 
 "You can't make me believe it's the peabody- 
 bird you want to hear you flirtatious young 
 rascal!" came the laughing reply from the buggy. 
 
 "Can't a fellow interest himself in ornithology 
 without being accused of ulterior motives ? " 
 
 Mr. Fairboro is as good at book-talking as Mr. 
 Merion, and I could not have guessed what he was 
 talking about, if I hadn't heard the doctor say: 
 
 "Ornithology! As if I didn't know what sort 
 of bird you were after, when you persisted in 
 accompanying me to the Cove!" 
 
 "What a clever guesser you are, Cousin Lem- 
 uel! That comes of foregathering with Yankees! 
 But you had better drive on; your patient may 
 be in extremis while you are loitering here! I 
 dare say that bass-bellowing skipper, Haskell, 
 can help you patch up the broken spring, so that 
 it will carry us back to the Lodge." 
 
 "I'll attend to the spring, my lad, and let me 
 tell you, that if you follow the quarry you are 
 after too closely, I shall have an account to settle 
 with you. If I don't find you waiting for me at 
 a convenient place along the road, you'll foot it 
 back to the Lodge, or stay here all night, hunt- 
 ing peabody-birds ! "
 
 i8o SANBPEEP 
 
 "Not a very disagreeable punishment, if I 
 happen to bring down my bird!" answered Mr. 
 Fairboro, laughing gaily. Then, bumpity-bump, 
 swish-swash, the buggy went on its way, the 
 foot-traveller following. 
 
 We waited, still as two mice, until both the gen- 
 tlemen were out of hearing. Then aunt allowed, 
 as we stepped into the road: 
 
 "Guess it's patridges thet rusticator's after, 
 'ste'd of peabody-birds, which hain't no bigger 'n 
 a bumble-bee when their feathers is off 'n' they're 
 skun. If he wants to git patridges, he hed ought 
 to come in daytime 'n' fetch a gun, ste'd of hunt- 
 in' fur 'em after night, 'n' nawthin' to ketch 'em 
 with." 
 
 Dear, unsuspicious old soul! If she didn't 
 know what sort of bird Mr. Fairboro was after, 
 I did; and I made up my mind he shouldn't 
 "bring it down." 
 
 "Don't let's go home yet, aunt," I said, link- 
 ing my arm in hers. "It isn't too late to go and 
 see Clara- John's baby. I haven't seen it for a 
 month. Come!" 
 
 I drew her into one of the many foot-paths 
 which cut through the woods in all directions 
 all of them so familiar to us Cove folks that we 
 don't need a lantern to find them, especially if 
 the stars are sparkling like diamonds in a clear 
 sky.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 I DID not get back to the Lodge until Wednes- 
 day, for Louine crossed the dark river early 
 on Monday morning, and Miss Warrington 
 sent me word to stay until after the funeral. 
 
 I don't believe I shall ever get over Louine's 
 death. I feel as if I were to blame for it, because 
 I would not promise to do what she asked me. 
 Perhaps, if Mr. Merion had not taught me to 
 think, I might have been able to promise. But 
 now? I know I am "not a mite better than 
 Zemro" as his cousin Acquia, who is dread- 
 fully put out with me, said but I just couldn't 
 endure the thought of living with him all my days. 
 I would rather a hundred times fish and set lob- 
 ster traps in the worst storms, than have nothing 
 at all to do as Zemro' s " woman," nothing but 
 to "command his cow and the pig! " 
 
 When I was coming up the avenue, I met 
 Malston with a big basket on his arm. He took 
 off his hat, and said he was glad to see me 
 back. I asked him if his sister had come. 
 
 "Yes, Miss, she arrived yesterday. Mrs. Gilbert 
 has kindly sent her these eatables, as our stove 
 has not yet been sent from the Headlands. You 
 have had a death in your neighborhood, I hear? " 
 
 181
 
 182 SANDPEEP 
 
 I nodded yes, and looked serious. 
 
 "It is sad to lose a dear friend," he allowed, 
 and looked serious, too; but the next minute he 
 asked if he might tell his sister that I thought of 
 taking French lessons from her. 
 
 "Not until I have spoken to Miss Warrington 
 about it," I told him. "But I will call to see her 
 even if I don't take lessons." 
 
 "Thank you, Miss. If it is not asking too much, 
 will you please bring Master Geoffrey with you? 
 You remember I told you she had lost her own 
 little boy?" 
 
 "Yes, I remember," I answered, and my own 
 sore heart made me sorry for the poor childless 
 widow. "I will ask Miss Warrington. What is 
 her name?" 
 
 "Makart Mrs. Makart" 
 
 "Thank you. Tell her I shall call very soon." 
 
 He bowed very politely and went his way. 
 
 Geoffrey and his dog were playing on the ter- 
 race, and they made such a fuss over me that the 
 noise brought Miss Warrington to the window. 
 
 "Why, Miss Brenson! is it you who is caus- 
 ing such an uproar?" she said, smiling. "If I 
 had known you intended to return to-day, I should 
 have sent the cart for you. Dr. Parke told me 
 I need not look for you until to-morrow." 
 
 "I told him I wouldn't be here until to-morrow, 
 but, as I wasn't needed, I thought I might as well 
 come to-day."
 
 SANDPEEP 183 
 
 I didn't tell her that I couldn't stay longer 
 where Acquia Perkins kept glowering at me all 
 the time, and Zemro kept making me cry, by 
 looking as if he didn't have a thing to live for. 
 
 "Well, I am glad you are here!" Miss War- 
 rington allowed. "Janet and I have had our 
 hands full with your exacting pupil. Did the 
 doctor tell you that he and I are the only mem- 
 bers of the family left at the Lodge?" 
 
 "He told me nearly everybody had gone off 
 on a yacht." 
 
 "The Kelpie; she will return to-morrow or 
 Friday, and Mr. Amberly, the owner of the yacht, 
 with his daughters and several friends, will spend 
 a week or two here. So, as Janet will be obliged 
 to assist the other maids, you will have the sole 
 care of your pupil, during the day and evening, 
 at all events. I imagine you will not want to go 
 home again on Saturday?" 
 
 "No no not if I am needed here," I 
 answered, though I had intended to ask if I 
 might go to meeting on Sunday morning. 
 
 She noticed my hesitation and said that if it 
 was necessary she would, of course, manage with- 
 out me. 
 
 "It isn't really necessary," I answered. "Only 
 I promised Zemro, who is at our house now, 
 that I would come to meeting on Sunday. The 
 poor boy is so lonely, I pity him." She looked at 
 me as if she were trying to see what was at the
 
 184 SANDPEEP 
 
 back of my mind. Then she said, in the kind 
 way she would speak to a daughter: "My dear 
 child, I think it would be unwise to go home 
 just because the bereaved young man asked you 
 to come. Often a folly is committed through 
 pity, which is regretted bitterly afterward. Do 
 you understand?" 
 
 "Yes, I think I do; but, if pity could make 
 up for a great cruelty, I know I could endure the 
 regret. It would be only the punishment I 
 deserve." 
 
 "What cruelty can you be guilty of, you tender- 
 hearted child?" she asked, smiling. 
 
 I told her what Louine had begged me, with 
 almost her last breath, to promise, and that I 
 was sure my refusal had made her worse. 
 
 "If you had given your promise, could you 
 have fulfilled it?" she asked, and looked at me 
 earnestly. 
 
 "I should have tried; the thought that I had 
 brightened the last hours of a dying woman 
 would have helped me." 
 
 "You strange creature!" she said, oh, so 
 kindly, and she squeezed my hard, brown hands 
 between her own little soft, white ones; "you are 
 in too gloomy a mood now to view this matter 
 in a proper light. You will think differently 
 later. Banish every self-accusing thought about 
 Miss Haskell's selfish request. Your refusal had 
 nothing to do with hastening her death. Dr.
 
 SANDPEEP 185 
 
 Parke told me there was no hope from the first. 
 The severe cold she caught through her own im- 
 prudence resulted in pneumonia. Come, let us 
 talk about something else. I want you to take 
 a message to that cottage in the woods outside 
 the park. Malston has rented it, and brought 
 his sister there to keep house for him." 
 
 "Yes, I know; he told me," I interrupted. 
 
 "Well, the woman had to sleep on a bed made 
 of pine boughs last night, because the furniture 
 Malston bought at the Headlands was not sent 
 down yesterday. I want you to tell her that, if it 
 does not arrive to-day, she must sleep at the Lodge 
 until it does come." 
 
 "Mrs. Makart that is her name can play 
 the piano," I told her. 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "Yes, so Malston told me; he said they had 
 not been poor always and that bad luck forced 
 him to work in a stable. I guess his sister must 
 be real smart; she can speak French, too." 
 
 "She must be ' smart' indeed! Has she other 
 accomplishments ? Does she sing ? dance ? " 
 
 Miss Warrington's eyes were twinkling, but 
 I didn't mind; I thought it too good a chance 
 to speak to her about the lessons. 
 
 "I don't know," I answered. "Malston didn't 
 mention anything but the piano and French. I 
 wonder if you would mind if I took music lessons 
 from her?"
 
 i86 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Why should I mind? Take lessons if you 
 wish, child." She must be able to see what is 
 at the back of a body's mind, for she added: 
 
 " I dare say you would like to learn French, too ? " 
 
 "Indeed I should, dear Miss Warrington. I 
 want to learn everything a first-class teacher 
 ought to know.'' 
 
 "Is it necessary for the teachers down here 
 to teach French and music?" she asked. 
 
 "No, but I might get a school away from here, 
 where the pay is better." 
 
 "Very well; learn all you can, only keep in 
 mind my injunction not to let your little charge 
 know that you are studying French." 
 
 "I will remember, dear Miss Warrington, and 
 I thank you more than I can say. May I speak 
 to Mrs. Makart about the lessons to-day?" 
 
 "Yes; it will give you something else to think 
 about than your 'cruelty' to Miss Haskell and 
 your pity for her brother! " 
 
 The narrow lane, hardly wider than a foot- 
 path, which turns off from the main road just 
 outside the Lodge gates and runs through the 
 thick woods to the old cottage, is so overgrown 
 with tall weeds and briars that I could hardly 
 force my way through them. 
 
 I had gone about half way, when I met a jig- 
 ger coming down the lane and had to step into 
 the bushes to let it pass. I asked one of the men 
 in it if he had brought Mr. Malston's furniture.
 
 SANDPEEP 187 
 
 "Yaas be you acquainted with them folks 
 to the cottage?" he asked, and stopped the 
 horses. 
 
 "I am acquainted with the gentleman," I 
 answered. 
 
 "Sort of cu'rus, ain't they? " 
 
 "What is curious about them? " 
 
 "They jabber like two poll-parrots, V don't 
 say a word a body kin make head nur tail of. 
 Furriners, I cal'late?" 
 
 "They are from Canada, and speak French," 
 I told him. 
 
 "Is he her man?" he asked, bending over to 
 break off a birch twig, from which he began to 
 strip the leaves. 
 
 "No, he is her brother." 
 
 "Couldn't see what she looks like, nor ef she's 
 old or young; she hes her head 'n' face all 
 kivered up with some black stuff, 's ef she was 
 af eared of ketchen' the laygrip." 
 
 "I shouldn't admire to reeside in thet old 
 dwellin'," the other man said, and he, too, broke 
 a twig and stripped off the leaves longshore 
 folks don't seem able to talk unless they are 
 whittling, or stripping leaves "don't guess they 
 hevheerd it'sha'nted." 
 
 "Hain't scared of sperrits, dessay," the driver 
 allowed, and slapped his horses with the reins 
 to make them move on. 
 
 Of course, as the furniture had come, there
 
 188 SANDPEEP 
 
 was no need for me to go on to the cottage; but 
 I was anxious to speak to Mrs. Makart about 
 the lessons. So I went on and soon got to the 
 cottage, which is almost hidden in a tangle of 
 vines and tall weeds. The kitchen stove was 
 already set up, for smoke was coming out of 
 the chimney, from which a half-dozen or more 
 bricks have fallen and are lying on the moss- 
 covered roof. Malston had better get some 
 shingles for a new roof, and mend the chimney, 
 and clear the weeds out of the door-yard, or not 
 even the "sperrits" that "ha'nt" the old house 
 will care to stay in it. 
 
 The front door was open, and when I stepped 
 up to the stoop, I saw some of the furniture 
 the jigger had brought, in the front room. The 
 door into the kitchen was partly open and I 
 could hear someone walking about. I also heard 
 the sound of wood-chopping at the back of the 
 house. 
 
 I didn't think it was necessary to knock at 
 an open door we Cove folks don't even knock 
 at one that's shut, when we make a neighborly 
 call and I was crossing the floor toward the 
 kitchen, when I heard a woman's voice say: 
 
 "When did you say the governess was coming 
 back?" 
 
 "She came back to-day; I met her on my 
 way here," Malston' s voice answered from the 
 back yard.
 
 SANDPEEP 189 
 
 "Did you ask her to bring the boy to see me? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I hope she will bring him soon I can't 
 wait much longer." 
 
 I was going to open the door, when Malston's 
 next words made me stop where I was. "Now, 
 Lina," he said, very sharply, "you will spoil 
 everything with your impatience. You must 
 try to be satisfied with being where you can see 
 the boy every day or so. Don't you, too, begin 
 to make trouble for me. I have enough already 
 trying to prevent Andray from making a mess 
 of the whole business." 
 
 "Has he been doing anything else?" 
 
 "Not since that night." 
 
 "I dare say they would have sent him to 
 prison, if they had caught him." 
 
 "Certainly they would, and it's where he ought 
 to be, for our safety!" 
 
 "You must not blame the poor fellow for " 
 
 "I don't blame him for anything but his drink- 
 ing. If he would only stop it, we might live like 
 fighting cocks, on the fat of the land, and I wouldn't 
 have to be playing hostler to the grand senior." 
 
 Now, "senior" means an old person, and Mr. 
 Warrington can't be called old, so whom Mal- 
 ston meant I don't know. I would have liked 
 to hear more, but I suddenly remembered that 
 I was doing a mean thing to listen, and I knocked 
 at the door.
 
 IQO SANDPEEP 
 
 "There is someone in the other room," the 
 woman's voice said. "Come quickly." 
 
 Malston looked really scared when he saw me; 
 he shut the door behind him, instead of asking me 
 to go to the kitchen and be introduced to his sister, 
 or asking her to come into the front room. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Brenson, I we didn't expect 
 you. I hope you will excuse the torn-up con- 
 dition of" 
 
 "Please don't mind me," I interrupted. "I 
 know you did not expect callers so soon, but 
 I came to tell you that Miss Warrington wants 
 your sister to come to the Lodge to sleep, until 
 your furniture arrives. I see it is here all right," 
 I added, as if I hadn't seen the vehicle that 
 brought it. Elder Snowdon is "dead right" 
 as Mr. Fairboro says I am a " sinful critter." 
 
 "Yes, thank you, Miss; and please thank Miss 
 Warrington for her kindness. Of course, " 
 he talked so fast, I could see he was flustered, 
 and I thought he was very foolish; folks can't 
 move and get all fixed up the same day "we 
 are not prepared to receive company, but, if 
 you will find a seat, I will tell my sister you are 
 here. She will be glad to see you." 
 
 Though I wanted to see Mrs. Makart very 
 much, I said: "Don't trouble her to leave her 
 work, Mr. Malston. I know just how busy she 
 must be. I will call again, when you are all 
 settled."
 
 SANDPEEP 191 
 
 "Please wait, Miss," he interrupted; then he 
 backed into the kitchen and shut the door again 
 quickly. In a little while he came back with his 
 sister. She isn't nearly as tall as I am. She was 
 dressed in mourning, and the black veil around 
 her head covered all her hair, which is grayer 
 than Miss Warrington's, except a little bit in 
 front. Dark-blue glass specs quite hide her 
 eyes, so that I don't wonder the men who brought 
 the furniture couldn't say what she looked like. 
 I should say, if her brother had not told me she 
 was near his age, that she is young-looking for an 
 old lady and old-looking for a young lady. 
 
 "I am happy to make your acquaintance, 
 Miss Brenson," she said, and she laid a wee little 
 hand in mine, which would make nearly two like 
 it. It was so soft, I know it hasn't done much 
 housework. I gave it a good, friendly squeeze, 
 and answered heartily: "And I am very happy 
 to make yours, Mrs. Makart, and I can't say 
 how glad I am you have come here to live. I 
 may as well tell you at once that I am going to 
 take lessons from you both music and French, 
 if you will teach me." 
 
 "That is good news, indeed, Miss," Malston 
 answered, instead of his sister, who looked at 
 me as if she did not understand. "Now, sister 
 Lina will not be so lonely here. She will, I know, 
 greatly enjoy giving you lessons." 
 
 "Not half as much as I shall enjoy taking
 
 192 SANDPEEP 
 
 them," I answered, heartily as before. "I shall 
 come to the cottage for the French lessons; but 
 she will have to give me the music lessons at the 
 Lodge." 
 
 "Music lessons? But I- Mrs. Makart 
 began, but her brother interrupted: 
 
 "Yes, Lina dear; of course you will have to 
 go to the Lodge. You will get over your shy- 
 ness when you have been there a few times. 
 You can't play the piano at all, can you, Miss?" 
 
 "I am only a beginner; but Mrs. Makart will 
 find me a diligent scholar." 
 
 " But really I don't " 
 
 "My dear little sister," Malston interrupted 
 again, "you will have to make up your mind to 
 go to the Lodge, so don't say you don't want 
 to." 
 
 "You needn't be afraid of meeting anyone," 
 I told her. "You will not see anyone but me 
 and Geoffrey " 
 
 "Ah, yes, the boy! I adore children, Miss 
 Brenson," she said, and she looked so wishful 
 that I pitied her. 
 
 "I know it," I answered, and I told her she 
 should see Geoffrey every time she came. 
 
 "But you will bring him here to see me some- 
 times, won't you?" 
 
 "Of course I will! and I hope he may take 
 a fancy to you. He can be very disagreeable 
 if he doesn't like you."
 
 SANDPEEP 193 
 
 "I know he will love me," she allowed, and 
 I hope she may not be disappointed. 
 
 When I got up to go, she asked me if I 
 wouldn't bring Geoffrey to see her the next day; 
 and when I said I shouldn't be able to call again 
 until Monday, she pressed her hands against her 
 heart and cried out: 
 
 "Monday! Oh, I can't wait until Monday! 
 I can't, I can't!" 
 
 "Lina!" Malston was dreadfully cross 
 "You must remember that Miss Brenson is not 
 free to come whenever you would like to see 
 her. On Monday our house will be in order; 
 then you can begin the French lessons." 
 
 She said nothing more, but I saw two big tears 
 roll from under the blue specs and down her 
 cheeks poor little soul ! 
 
 She and Malston stood on the stoop, looking 
 after me. I had gone down the lane a little ways, 
 when I had to stop to loosen my skirt from a 
 blackberry vine, and I heard Mrs. Makart ex- 
 claim, as if she were surprised, or had hurt her- 
 self. I looked back to see what had happened. 
 She had gone into the house, and I thought I 
 saw the tramp come from the kitchen into the 
 front room, just before Malston shut the door. 
 I was going back to see; then I decided that it 
 was probably one of the men from the Lodge 
 stables, who had come to help Malston get 
 settled.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 ID ID not sleep well the night after my visit to 
 the cottage. Once, when I sat up to shake 
 my pillow, I heard the loose board in the 
 floor outside of Geoffrey's room creak loudly, 
 but did not think anything of it, as Bonny didn't 
 seem to mind it. So I went to sleep again, but 
 not for long. I woke again at early dawn, and 
 heard another noise not inside the house this 
 time. It was the sound an anchor-chain makes 
 when the anchor is lowered into the water. "The 
 Kelpie! " I said to myself, and jumped out of 
 bed. I wanted to see the yacht which Dr. 
 Parke had told me was one of the largest and 
 finest private vessels afloat. 
 
 I couldn't see her from my window, so I 
 wrapped a blanket around me, squaw-fashion, 
 and went down to the hall-window, on the floor 
 below. Bonny opened his eyes when I passed 
 by him; but he only winked sleepily and beat 
 softly with his tail on the floor, then went to 
 sleep again. I am quite sure a stranger couldn't 
 get into the house Bonny is too good a watch- 
 dog. 
 
 The Kelpie was anchored just inside the en- 
 trance to the Cove, and though the setting moon 
 
 194
 
 SANDPEEP 195 
 
 and rising day made light enough to see by, a 
 lantern was bobbing along the deck. She is 
 a beautiful boat; father would have called her a 
 "dandy vessil," and I admired her for several 
 minutes. I was half-way up the stairs, going 
 back to my room, when- I heard a door open 
 below, and stepped back to see who else was up 
 at that early hour. 
 
 It must have been one of the maids, for it 
 wasn't Miss Warrington. She wore a long cape 
 with the hood over her head. It wasn't a strange 
 woman, for Bonny let her pat his head and only 
 wagged his tail without getting up. "She has 
 come to see the yacht, too," I told myself, and 
 went to my room. 
 
 More than ever I think rusticators' ways are 
 queer. Before I went back to bed, I looked out 
 of my window, and saw that woman climb over 
 the balcony railing and jump down to the 
 ground. I was sure she must have broken her 
 neck and was going to run down-stairs, when I 
 heard a man's voice say, very low: "Bravo, my 
 beauty! You haven't forgotten the trick of it yet." 
 
 Now, why the maid should have risked her 
 neck, instead of walking down-stairs, I can't 
 understand. Even if she wanted to go walking 
 with her fellow a very strange thing to do at 
 that hour she might have gone down to him 
 as any other human being with two legs would, 
 instead of jumping from the balcony like a cat.
 
 196 SANDPEEP 
 
 The folks from the yacht did not come ashore 
 until breakfast time. I did not see them, as 
 Geoffrey and I had our breakfast in the house- 
 keeper's room, and will take all our meals there 
 while the company are in the house. We started 
 for our walk, as usual, after lessons, and were 
 crossing the lawn toward the avenue, when Mr. 
 Fairboro came after us from the terrace, where 
 several ladies and gentlemen were talking and 
 laughing. I was truly vexed, for I just knew 
 what Mr. Warrington would think if he saw him 
 with me again. 
 
 "You don't seem in the least glad to see me," 
 he said, and looked very reproachful. "Even 
 if you have not missed me, you might say you 
 had. It would be only a polite fiction." 
 
 "I should say it with truth, Mr. Fairboro," I re- 
 plied, " if I had not been away all the time you were. 
 But I came back to the Lodge only yesterday." 
 
 "You have not been ill, I hope?" he asked, 
 and looked as if he really would care if I had. 
 
 "No, sir; I helped take care of a sick friend." 
 
 "Ah, true! I remember the bass-singer's 
 sister. How is she ? " 
 
 "She has crossed the dark river," I answered, 
 very solemn. 
 
 He looked as if he hadn't quite understood; 
 then, "Oh! you mean she died? Dr. Parke 
 said she could not recover. I dare say her 
 brother is very much cut up?"
 
 SANDPEEP 197 
 
 "If you mean grieved, yes, sir, he is; he is 
 sore-distressed, indeed." 
 
 "Poor fellow! he has my sympathy." 
 
 He said nothing more for several minutes, 
 just walked along beside me and switched at 
 the bushes by the roadside with his pretty little 
 cane. 
 
 "Where were you," he asked suddenly, "the 
 evening I went with Dr. Parke to the Cove? 
 the evening Haskell's sister was taken ill ? " 
 
 "I I wasn't at home," I answered, and my 
 face was red as fire. 
 
 "That I discovered, to my sincere regret, 
 when I called at your house. I went to the Cove 
 on purpose to see you. I wanted to enjoy an- 
 other conversation like the one we had the 
 Sunday we walked home together from meeting. 
 Where is the bass- singer still at the Cove ? " 
 
 "Zemro is stopping at our house," I answered; 
 and I was very dignified, for I didn't like the 
 way he talked about poor Zem. "His own 
 house is too lonely, now that his sister is gone." 
 
 "It is awfully good of you and your aunt to 
 take such an interest in the bereaved young 
 man. I dare say you will be a sister to him 
 now? you are so kind-hearted." 
 
 "Aunt and I will do what we can to lighten 
 his sorrow, Mr. Fairboro," I answered, still very 
 dignified, for I knew I should see a smile on his 
 lips, if I had cared to look at him.
 
 iQ8 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Well, Zemro odd name, isn't it? is a 
 lucky beggar to have such a sister. I envy 
 him." 
 
 "I don't think you have any call to envy any- 
 body, Mr. Fairboro, " I allowed; "you are rich; 
 you have lots of nice friends; you are educated; 
 you have a beautiful sister, and everything a 
 reasonable person ought to ask for." 
 
 "But, Miss Brenson, I want so much more 
 than I've got. I wonder, if I were to lose my 
 beautiful sister, would you be as kind to me as 
 you are to Haskell?" 
 
 "No, sir, I'm sure I shouldn't," I answered 
 promptly. "You and Zemro are two very dif- 
 ferent gentlemen. You wouldn't have to go on 
 living here in " 
 
 "But " he interrupted and came closer to 
 my side "I should be only too happy to go 
 on living here, until the end of my days, if I " 
 I am sorry to have to say that I don't believe 
 half of what Mr. Fairboro tells me; but that 
 doesn't hinder me from wanting to know what 
 he would have said, if Mr. Warrington and a 
 very handsome elderly gentleman hadn't come 
 toward us just then, around the turn in the road. 
 
 "Ah, here is the young gentleman himself! " 
 exclaimed the stranger, sticking in front of his 
 right eye the single eyeglass which hung by a 
 cord from the buttonhole of his vest, and look- 
 ing through it at me, instead of at Mr. Fairboro.
 
 SANDPEEP 199 
 
 "Warrington tells me you want to sell that pacer 
 of yours, Carrington ? " 
 
 "Yes, Car," Mr. Warrington said, before Mr. 
 Fairboro could answer, "here's your chance to 
 secure a purchaser for the roan. Go with Am- 
 berly to the stables, and I'll follow as soon as 
 I have lodged a complaint against Geoffrey with 
 Miss Brenson, who will excuse you, I know." 
 
 I said "certainly," but Mr. Fairboro looked 
 as if he wasn't going to be excused. Then, he 
 lifted his hat to me, and walked away with the 
 old gentleman. I expected a talking to from 
 Mr. Warrington, but he only said : 
 
 "Geoffrey's manners are shocking, Miss Bren- 
 son. He ran against Mr. Amberly just beyond 
 the turn there, and instead of apologizing, kicked 
 actually kicked! the gentleman's shins, and 
 struck at me when I took hold of him to stop him. 
 He is rude as a little savage, and I must request 
 you to pay more attention to his manners." 
 
 "I am very sorry, sir," I said, and looked it, 
 too. "I do try my best to teach him to be polite, 
 but he is so he doesn't seem able to remember 
 what I tell him "I came very near saying, 
 "He is so very stupid " and to the boy's own 
 father, too! 
 
 "No, he does not seem able to remember 
 anything," he agreed, I thought, very sadly, " but 
 you must have patience and do what you can 
 to improve him."
 
 200 SANDPEEP 
 
 He was turning into the stable-road, when he 
 stopped to say: 
 
 "My aunt asked me if I would permit Geof- 
 frey to go with you to Malston's cottage oc- 
 casionally. As the cottage is so near, I don't 
 believe any harm could come to him if you took 
 him with you now and then." 
 
 Now, if that was the tramp I saw at the cot- 
 tage, and if he is hanging around here to coax 
 Geoffrey away with him, then there might be 
 danger in my taking the boy to see Mrs. Makart. 
 But all men with bushy beards look alike at 
 a distance; and several of the men that work 
 about the Lodge grounds have just such beards; 
 so it may have been one of them I saw. 
 
 "If he goes with me to the cottage, sir," I 
 said to Mr. Warrington, "I promise you I will 
 keep a close watch on him; and with Bonny 
 to help, I know I can hinder the tramp, if he 
 is- still around here, from running away with 
 him." 
 
 "I think I can trust you!" he said, smiling; 
 then he lifted his hat, and walked away. 
 
 If he would be as kind and pleasant always, 
 I could get up courage enough some day to tell 
 him what I found in the old government book! 
 
 When I caught up with Geoffrey, I gave him 
 a talking to, for kicking Mr. Amberly; but he 
 didn't mind, and kept mumbling all the time I 
 was scolding him:
 
 SANDPEEP 201 
 
 "I will kick hims I will kick hims wheiu 
 I not like hims." 
 
 How is a body to make such a stubborn boy 
 learn manners? We were near the gates, when 
 a clattering of horses' hoofs on the hard road 
 made us hurry toward the stone seat just inside 
 the gateway. Two horses were galloping, hard 
 as they could come, down the avenue. Malston 
 was riding one of them, and had hold of the 
 other one's halter. It was the horse Mrs. War- 
 rington always rides, and there was a lady's 
 saddle on it. 
 
 When they were just in front of the stone seat, 
 Geoffrey's hat blew off. He ran after it, right 
 under the horses' feet, and would have been 
 trampled to death, if Malston had not quickly 
 swung himself from the saddle, and, holding to 
 it with one hand, with the other caught up the 
 boy. Before I could realize what had hap- 
 pened, he was back in his saddle again, with 
 Geoffrey, who wasn't the least mite scared, sit- 
 ting in front of him. 
 
 My soul and body, but wasn't I scared! I 
 don't believe anybody ever did such a wonder- 
 ful thing before! and I said so too, to Malston, 
 when he came riding back to the seat. 
 
 "It wasn't much to do, Miss," he answered, 
 very modestly. "It required only quick action 
 and a strong arm. Please don't speak of it to 
 anyone. If Mr. Warrington should hear it, he
 
 202 SANDPEEP 
 
 would think me careless for riding fast inside 
 the gates, and discharge me." 
 
 I promised I would not tell a soul. Mr. War- 
 rington might send him away and that would be 
 a great pity, after he has spent so much money 
 on the old cottage. Besides, it would put a stop 
 to my taking lessons from Mrs. Makart. I 
 asked him where he was taking Mrs. Warring- 
 ton's beautiful horse. 
 
 "I am only exercising him, Miss. He gets 
 too frisky if he is not ridden every day." 
 
 "I wish I could ride as well as Mrs. Warring- 
 ton," I said wishfully. 
 
 "You could easily learn, Miss. Wouldn't you 
 like to take a lesson in the lane now? Nobody 
 would see you." 
 
 "If I thought I could stick on the saddle, I 
 would try." 
 
 He gave the reins of the horse he was on to Geof- 
 frey, and swung to the ground. He is very grace- 
 ful and rides even better than Mr. Warrington. 
 
 "Is it safe to leave the boy on that horse? " I 
 asked. 
 
 "Perfectly safe, Miss. The little master has 
 learned to ride, you know." 
 
 "Yes, on his pony; but that horse is so much 
 higher, he might fall off." 
 
 "He will not fall off," Malston said, and he 
 seemed so sure of it, that I moved toward the 
 other horse.
 
 SANDPEEP 203 
 
 I managed, somehow, with him to boost me, 
 to scramble to the saddle. Then he showed me 
 how to hold the reins, and told me that all I 
 needed to do was to keep a firm seat. 
 
 Keep a firm seat, indeed! I found that I 
 couldn't do that if the horse went faster than a 
 slow walk. I bobbed up and down and not 
 always down into the place I had bobbed up 
 from. So I made him go very slowly. That little 
 rascal, Geoffrey, laughed at me and even Mal- 
 ston smiled; but he kept saying, as he walked 
 his horse beside mine: "You do admirably, 
 Miss admirably. You would soon learn. All 
 you need is practice." 
 
 "I don't believe I should ever learn to ride as 
 well as Mrs. Warrington," I said, afraid to take 
 my eyes off the road, or that part of it I could 
 see between the ears of my horse. 
 
 "Mrs. Warrington is a splendid horsewoman," 
 he allowed, "and a very beautiful lady, too." 
 
 I didn't answer: I was too busy trying to keep 
 from sliding backward. 
 
 "If what they say at the stables is true," Mal- 
 ston said again, "the lady will soon be the little 
 master's mamma." 
 
 That's what poor Louine suspicioned. I was 
 sorry to hear Malston say it, too, for I know Mrs. 
 Warrington does not love Geoffrey, and I don't 
 like to think of her taking the pretty finger-ring 
 lady's place.
 
 204 SANDPEEP 
 
 "The servants," Malston went on, "say that 
 Mr. Warrington was very much in love with the 
 lady before she married his cousin; that she 
 jilted him, and that that is the reason he made 
 such a hasty marriage." 
 
 "Did he marry hastily?" I asked, just as if 
 I didn't know that Mr. Warrington had had 
 plenty of time to think, before he got married. 
 
 "Yes, Miss married in great haste, they 
 say, because he wanted the lady who jilted him 
 to believe he didn't love her. But he did and 
 does yet, as one may easily see." 
 
 I was a good deal more interested in my rid- 
 ing lesson than in what the servants said about 
 Mr. Warrington and the laughing widow- 
 woman, so I made no answer. After a while, 
 Malston said again: 
 
 "You are getting along so finely, Miss, I will 
 give the little master, who loves to go fast, a ride ; 
 and, if you have no objections, take him as far 
 as the cottage." 
 
 "All right," I answered, quite set up by his 
 praise, "but take good care of him." 
 
 He promised, and started off on a gallop. I 
 would have liked to follow at the same pace, but 
 I knew I should bounce off the saddle, if I dared 
 to go faster than the slow walk. 
 
 When I rode up to the cottage, Malston's horse 
 was standing in the door-yard, tied to a bush, but 
 he was nowhere in sight. He came out of the
 
 SANDPEEP 205 
 
 house quickly, when I said "Whoa," to my horse; 
 and helped me down from the saddle. I thanked 
 him and asked for Geoffrey. 
 
 "He is with sister Lina, Miss; she has given 
 him some milk and cake " 
 
 "Miss Warrington does not like him to eat 
 sweet cake," I interrupted. 
 
 I was hurrying toward the house, when Mal- 
 ston, somehow, got in front of me; I had to 
 stop, and he said: 
 
 "This is very plain cake, Miss, and will not 
 hurt him; my sister used to make it for her little 
 boy." 
 
 He kept looking toward the house and seemed 
 vexed. I was just going to say that I would 
 have to take Geoffrey back to the Lodge, when 
 Mrs. Makart came out of the cottage with him.' 
 I could see that she had been crying, and her 
 voice was still trembling when she asked me to 
 excuse her for keeping me waiting. 
 
 I told her I did not mind it, though I had 
 been on pins and needles about Geoffrey. 
 
 "This is such a darling little boy," she said 
 then, and drew him closer to her side. He cer- 
 tainly has taken a fancy to her, for he didn't 
 act as if he wanted to kick her, as he did Mr. 
 Amberly. 
 
 "Geoffrey can be very nice when he wants 
 to," I answered. " I hope he thanked you for 
 the cake and milk."
 
 206 SANDPEEP 
 
 "The cake and milk?" she said after me, and 
 looked as if she hadn't understood. Then, after 
 a glance at her brother, she added quickly: "Oh, 
 yes! He thanked me, and very nicely, too." 
 
 I took hold of his hand but he broke away 
 from me, and ran toward the house, saying: 
 
 "I want to goo-bye hims." 
 
 "What does the silly little chap mean?" Mal- 
 ston exclaimed, and ran after him. He caught 
 him at the door, swung him to his shoulder, 
 and trotted like a horse around the door-yard, 
 which prevented a lot of kicking and screaming. 
 
 "Is there a man in the house?" I asked Mrs. 
 Makart. 
 
 "Not in the house, Miss," her brother an- 
 swered before she could speak. "The little 
 master must mean the man I have hired to cut 
 wood. An honest fellow and excellent workman." 
 
 "Has he got a bushy beard?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, Miss; have you seen him?" 
 
 "Yes; when I was leaving here yesterday." 
 
 "He came to work yesterday." 
 
 That settled the tramp question. I can be 
 sure now that it was not he I saw at the cottage.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 1WAS in my room combing my hair, after a 
 romp with Geoffrey and Bonny, when Miss 
 Helmsley knocked. I was more than sur- 
 prised to see her, for she hardly ever notices me. 
 
 "I had quite a hunt for you, Miss Brenson," 
 she said, coming into the room. "What perfectly 
 lovely hair you've got! Looks more like spun- 
 glass than hair, though." 
 
 "I never saw spun-glass, and shouldn't have 
 thought glass could be spun. Won't you take a 
 chair?" I answered. 
 
 "Yes, thanks." She sat down and went on to 
 say: "You need only to look at that corn-colored 
 cascade falling over your shoulders, and you'll 
 know what spun-glass is like. Go on, and do 
 up your mane, and I'll tell you what I came 
 for." 
 
 I went on "doing up my mane," and she con- 
 tinued : 
 
 "I want you to come out rowing with me. 
 All the girls I know have gone daft over athletics, 
 and if I don't want to be a lonesome freak, I've 
 got to take up something of the sort, too. I don't 
 fancy any of those violent exercises that make 
 you hot, and take the crimp out of your bangs; 
 
 207
 
 208 SANDPEEP 
 
 so, as one can wear a fetching gown in a boat, I 
 have decided to take up rowing as my fad. The 
 only drawback about water-exercises for me is 
 that I get so beastly seasick, as my brother would 
 say, if the boat is the least bit tippy. But I am 
 going to try. Now, what I want you to do is, 
 come out with me in the boat and row me around 
 in the cove for a while, and if I don't get sick, 
 then you shall teach me to row. You will, won't 
 you?" 
 
 I did not understand more than half she said, 
 but I understood enough to answer that I should 
 be pleased to give her rowing lessons, if Miss 
 Warrington would let me take the time. 
 
 "I made sure of her permission before I came. 
 She recommended you and said you were a fine 
 sailoress, or skipperess, whichever is correct, and 
 that you know as well as a man how to manage 
 a boat. I would rather have you teach me, any- 
 way, for a man would laugh if I got seasick. 
 Car Mr. Fairboro offered to give me oar- 
 lessons he called it but I know too well what 
 he would do if he got me into a boat. He'd 
 take me out where the water was too deep to see 
 bottom, and I couldn't stand that. I want to 
 row where my head would be above the water, 
 if the boat should happen to tip over, don't you 
 see?" 
 
 When I got done laughing, she went on: 
 
 "Everybody has gone off on the Kelpie, so
 
 SANDPEEP 209 
 
 come out with me now, and no one will be 
 here to see, if my tummy should get the better 
 of me." 
 
 "I should like to oblige you, Miss Helmsley," 
 I answered, "but I don't think I can go with 
 you to-day ; I have to take care of Geoffrey 
 
 "Take him with you," she interrupted. 
 
 "I couldn't do that without his father's per- 
 mission." 
 
 She looked so disappointed, I allowed, "Per- 
 haps Janet will look after him an hour or so; 
 I'll ask her." 
 
 "Thanks awfully! Do you know that you 
 have a small fortune on your head, Miss Bren- 
 son?" she asked, watching me stick the hair-pins 
 into the knot at the back of my neck. 
 
 "A fortune? " I repeated, and turned to look 
 at her, puzzled. 
 
 "Yes, in your lovely hair." 
 
 "Do you mean that I could sell it? " 
 
 "Certainly. Almost any dealer in hair would 
 pay a good price for it." 
 
 "You are making fun of me, Miss Helmsley," 
 I said. 
 
 "Indeed I'm not! But you wouldn't sell your 
 hair, would you?" 
 
 "I might, if I needed the money. There was 
 a time when I would have been glad to sell it. 
 It's a crop that will grow again without sowing, 
 you know."
 
 210 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Yes, but you would look a guy while it was 
 growing." 
 
 "Unless a 'guy' is uglier than a sculpin, I 
 shouldn't mind!" I answered, then asked how 
 much she thought I could get for my hair. 
 
 "I can't say just how much two or three 
 hundred dollars, perhaps." 
 
 "Two or three hundred dollars? My soul 
 and body, Miss Helmsley! who would pay all 
 that money for just hair? " 
 
 "Actresses, who need yellow wigs for certain 
 plays; society women who have lost their own 
 tresses, though I know of but one who can boast 
 of that rare shade of yellow. I think she would 
 gladly give any sum you might name if you 
 could transfer your hair, with the scalp, to her 
 own head. She has lost nearly all of her hair 
 through illness, and has great difficulty getting 
 switches and fringes of natural hair to match 
 the little she still has on her head. But time is 
 passing ; please see Janet the sailing party 
 will be back before we get our row, if we don't 
 start immediately." 
 
 Janet had nothing else to do and was very 
 willing to take charge of Geoffrey. So Miss 
 Helmsley and I were soon out on the water, in 
 the pretty little row-boat. 
 
 Miss Helmsley is dreadfully scared of the 
 water. She is always imagining the boat is 
 going to "tip over," and I had all I could do
 
 SANDPEEP 211 
 
 to keep a straight face when she kept telling me 
 not to row out where we couldn't see the bottom 
 of the Cove. 
 
 It is very silly, but I guess I should be just as 
 scared if I were in a balloon, though to be tipped 
 out of a boat wouldn't be half as bad as to fall 
 from a balloon. Ground is a lot harder than 
 water; and I'd rather be drowned whole, than 
 smashed to pieces. 
 
 "What a picturesque place Surgecliffe Lodge 
 is," Miss Helmsley allowed, when we were row- 
 ing out where we could see the house; "and 
 what a pity it has no mistress." 
 
 "There is Miss Warrington, the owner's aunt," 
 I said. 
 
 "Yes; but he ought to have a wife he 
 ought to be free to marry again." 
 
 "Free to marry again? What do you mean 
 by 'free'?" 
 
 "Why, as Mr. Warrington is neither a Latter- 
 day Saint nor a divorced sinner, he could not 
 marry again without committing bigamy. Don't 
 you see?" 
 
 I didn't "see" what she meant by a "Latter- 
 day Saint"; but knew what a "divorced sinner" 
 was, so I said: 
 
 "I thought Mr. Warrington was a widower." 
 
 "He isn't, unless the news of his wife's sud- 
 den demise arrived within the last twenty-four 
 hours. It's not likely, though; horrid creatures
 
 212 SANDPEEP 
 
 like that woman never die when you want 
 them to." 
 
 "Where is she ? and why do you call her a ' hor- 
 rid creature'?" I asked, more and more puzzled. 
 
 "There! please do pay more attention to 
 what you're doing, Miss Brenson. Go nearer 
 to the shore, and I'll answer all the questions 
 you choose to ask, if I can! You are an ani- 
 mated interrogation point and no mistake." 
 
 When we were well under the lee of the cliff, 
 where the water wasn't deep enough to come up 
 to our chins, if we "tipped over," she said again: 
 
 "Now, keep rowing here, and don't go out a 
 step farther. What do you want me to tell you 
 about that disreputable creature, to whom one 
 of the nicest men I know is bound until death, 
 or the divorce courts, do them part?" 
 
 "Everything you know about her, please. I 
 thought she was dead." 
 
 "So did Mr. Warrington, for a blissful period! 
 But it was a false report, sent out by the woman 
 herself, for what reason only she can tell. Some 
 say she did it because she was afraid Mr. War- 
 rington would take their child away from her. 
 I say, or rather, my brother says, that it was out 
 of pure cussedness, to spite the man whose life 
 she had ruined. She intended to let him be- 
 lieve her dead, until after he had married again, 
 which he would have, of course; then she would 
 have turned up and given him no end of trouble,
 
 SANDPEEP 213 
 
 and all because he had married her purely from 
 a sense of honor - 
 
 "From a sense of honor?" I interrupted. 
 
 "Yes! There! you are getting too far away 
 from the shore, again." When I had rowed 
 back where she could see bottom, she went on: 
 
 "Mr. Warrington was at college when he 
 married the low-born creature, because he con- 
 sidered it his duty, as an honorable gentleman. 
 Some of his friends say that he never would 
 have disgraced himself so, if Juliet Mrs. War- 
 rington hadn't jilted him for his cousin Geof- 
 frey. If that was really the reason for his hasty 
 marriage, I'll lay you the fizz as my brother 
 would say he has sorely repented it ever 
 since " 
 
 "What does 'lay you the fizz,' mean?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "That's slang for ' bet you the drinks' you 
 needn't look for it in the Encyclopaedia," she 
 added, smiling. 
 
 My face grew hot as fire. What I suspected, 
 when she called me an "animated interrogation 
 point" was true: Mr. Fairboro has been talking 
 about me to her. Well, if I did not ask ques- 
 tions, I should be even more ignorant than I am! 
 
 "Isn't there something else you want to 
 know?" she asked. 
 
 "I should like you to tell me what you mean 
 by 'low-born,'" I answered.
 
 214 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Why er the person who can't claim a 
 grandfather is considered low-born, don't you 
 know i 
 
 "But, Miss Helmsley! everybody must have 
 had a grandfather; one must have had one to 
 be here one's self." 
 
 "Oh, you are too deliciously innocent!" she 
 exclaimed, and laughed. "Of course, every- 
 body had a grandfather, but the grandchildren 
 are nobodies, unless the grandfather was of 
 some account, or a gentleman born. There 
 are some persons in society, though, whose 
 grandfathers aren't worth mentioning; but they 
 are so richly gilded, one doesn't inquire too 
 closely into what their forebears were or did." 
 
 "Then Mr. Warrington's wife wasn't 'richly 
 gilded,' " I allowed. 
 
 "No " laughing again "though she made 
 a deal of money. She was a celebrated dan- 
 sooze." I don't know if that is the way to spell 
 the word, for I can't find it in the dictionary. 
 
 "What is a dansooze, please ? " I asked. 
 
 "That's French for a woman dancer." 
 
 "A dancer? I never knew that one could 
 make a deal of money by dancing." I thought 
 she was making fun of me. 
 
 "You can if you are able to glide about on the 
 ends of your toes, and fling your heels high as 
 your head." 
 
 "Is that the way they dance in the city?" I
 
 SANDPEEP 215 
 
 exclaimed. "If it is, I don't wonder Elder 
 Snowdon says dancing is sinful." 
 
 "That is the sort of dancing that pays," Miss 
 Helmsley allowed, after she had laughed heartily, 
 "and Mademoiselle Angela Marcinet made no 
 end of money. She was the rage among the col- 
 lege students, who showered flowers and costly 
 gifts on her at every appearance, and fought 
 for the right to entertain her. Are you inter- 
 ested enough to hear all that I know about her? " 
 
 Interested? I just guess I was, and I told 
 her so. At last, after so many years, I was to 
 learn what I wanted so much to know about the 
 finger-ring lady. 
 
 "Well, as I said, the students lost their heads 
 over the beautiful dancer. One day a chum of 
 Mr. Warrington's invited him to a breakfast 
 on board his yacht, at which the dancer was the 
 guest of honor. There were four students be- 
 sides Mr. Warrington, and as all had been at a 
 late supper the night before, they were not as 
 fit as they might have been 
 
 "Do you mean that they were sick?" 
 
 "Just 'sick' enough not to know what they 
 were doing! There was an elaborate colla- 
 tion " 
 
 "What is a collation, please ?" I interrupted, 
 again. 
 
 "Eatables and drinkables, especially drink- 
 ables, and they had a good time. The owner
 
 216 SANDPEEP 
 
 of the yacht ordered the skipper to sail out to 
 sea a few miles, but the man misunderstood the 
 order, and sailed up the coast miles and miles, 
 too far to get back for the dancer's evening per- 
 formance. She raved, had hysterics and wanted 
 to throw herself overboard. But to get back in 
 time was out of the question. Mr. Warrington, 
 so the other men said afterward, prevented her 
 from jumping into the sea, by promising to 
 take upon himself the consequences of her man- 
 ager's displeasure. That calmed the creature's 
 hysterics and the yacht was allowed to sail on 
 up the coast. I don't know how far they sailed, 
 or how long the party was on board the yacht 
 I don't think they could have told themselves, 
 afterward ! but Mr. Warrington and the dancer 
 went ashore, somewhere, and were married just 
 where, nobody but they two and the preacher 
 who performed the ceremony knows." 
 
 "I know," I said to myself, and I wondered 
 what she would say if I were to tell her. 
 
 "The newspapers were full of the affair," she 
 went on. " There were whole columns of it: 
 'The only son of General Warrington ran away 
 from college and married the fascinating dancer, 
 Mademoiselle Marcinet, and sailed with her to 
 Europe ' you saw that in every newspaper ! 
 The scandal killed General Warrington. The 
 proud old gentleman couldn't stand his adored 
 son's disgrace, though Dr. Parke vows it was
 
 SANDPEEP 217 
 
 really a fall from his horse that caused the 
 General's death. Nobody heard anything more 
 about the runaway pair for several years. 
 Then Mr. Warrington returned alone. It was 
 said that he and his wife had agreed to live 
 apart; at least, there was no divorce. About 
 a year after his return, there was a notice in 
 the newspapers of the death, in France, of his 
 wife and little son, and all his friends were glad 
 for him " 
 
 "But if she died" 
 
 "She didn't die; it was a false report. A 
 little nearer to the shore, please! About six 
 months ago, Mr. Warrington joined an expedi- 
 tion, which was going to Africa to shoot Zoo 
 beasts - 
 
 "Zoo beasts? What kind of beasts are they, 
 please?" I interrupted. 
 
 "Oh, dear! the beasts you see in the Zoo, 
 of course " 
 
 "But I don't know what a 'Zoo' is, Miss 
 Helmsley I am dreadfully ignorant." 
 
 "You won't stay so, if you keep on asking 
 questions at the rate of a dozen a minute!" she 
 allowed, laughing; then she explained: "Zoo is 
 short for the Zoological garden in town, where 
 the elephants and lions and other poor beasts 
 are kept on exhibition. Well, the hunting party 
 was in Paris, getting its outfit ready, when the 
 French member invited the American and Eng-
 
 218 SANDPEEP 
 
 lish members to spend the week of waiting at 
 his shatto that means a house in the country," 
 she explained in a hurry, seeing that I was about 
 to ask her what it was. "The invitation was ac- 
 cepted, and one day Mr. Warrington strolled into 
 the little village near the shatto, and seeing a cir- 
 cus tent, he went in and recognized in one of the 
 equestriennes : 
 
 "What are they, please?" 
 
 "A woman who rides a horse stupid!" 
 
 "I know I'm stupid," I answered, sorrow- 
 fully. "I might have guessed it had something 
 to do with a horse. Please go on ' He recog- 
 nized in the woman rider' " 
 
 "His dancer, who was very much alive, and 
 I may add without being accused of vulgar- 
 ity 'kicking,' for she was kicking up her heels 
 on the horse which was galloping around the 
 ring. He waited until the performance was 
 over, then sought an interview with the rider and 
 her brothers, who were tumblers in the same 
 show " 
 
 "I don't know what 'tumblers' are, Miss 
 Helmsley; we Cove folks call the glasses we 
 drink out of 'tumblers.' I wouldn't trouble 
 you if I had brought a pencil and piece of paper 
 to write down the words I don't understand. I 
 just can't bear not to know what they mean! " 
 
 "Your thirst for information is commendable," 
 Miss Helmsley answered, "and it is no trouble to
 
 SANDPEEP 219 
 
 answer your questions, only amusing. Tumblers 
 are acrobats people who turn somersaults, 
 stand on their heads, and do other wonderful 
 things. I don't know what happened during 
 the interview between Mr. Warrington and his 
 wife, but the result was that he gave up the 
 hunting trip and came back to America, bring- 
 ing Geoffrey with him." 
 "And where is the dancing-woman now?" 
 "In France, I believe." 
 I thought for a minute, then said: 
 "I can't understand why Mr. Warrington 
 married her if he didn't love her." 
 
 "You silly! Men don't always marry the 
 women they love, or love the women they 
 marry! Mr. Warrington, you may be sure, 
 would not have married the 'dancing woman' 
 if he had not promised to do so when he was 
 er when he had too much fizz on the brain ! 
 He is the sort of honorable gentleman that keeps 
 a promise, no matter what his condition when 
 it was made!" 
 
 I guess it was the fizz on Mr. Warrington's 
 brain that made him act so strangely that stormy 
 night; he was quite different the next morning, 
 when he drew the "mermaid" picture. 
 
 After a little, I said, more to myself than to 
 Miss Helmsley : 
 
 "The poor lady must miss her little boy." 
 "'Poor lady'! " she sniffed. "I dare say she
 
 220 SANDPEEP 
 
 was glad enough to get rid of the little stupid 
 who isn't the least bit like a Warrington and 
 she received a snug sum of money in exchange 
 for him." 
 
 "But didn't you say she sent out the false 
 report of her death because she was afraid Mr. 
 Warrington might take the boy away from her? " 
 
 "That is what some people said; but her giving 
 up the boy proves that she is not so fond of him 
 after all." 
 
 Neither of us spoke again for several minutes. 
 I was busy thinking over what I had heard; but 
 Miss Helmsley must have forgotten all about 
 it, for she asked me suddenly, as if it had been 
 in her mind for ever so long: 
 
 "How came you to have such a very odd 
 name? I never heard anyone called Keren 
 Happuch before." 
 
 "When I was a tiny baby, father was so af- 
 flicted with boils, just as Job was, when the 
 Lord was trying his patience, that he thought 
 the name of that pious man's youngest daughter 
 would be a good one for me." 
 
 After she got done laughing she laughs al- 
 most as much as Mrs. Warrington I said I 
 thought it was time to go ashore. 
 
 "I dare say it is," she agreed, "though I am 
 not a bit tired" -I guess she wasn't; she 
 hadn't done the rowing! "I had no idea I 
 could be so comfortable in a boat. You must
 
 SANDPEEP 221 
 
 come out with me very soon again; and maybe 
 I'll try to row, too." 
 
 "I should be pleased to come out with you as 
 often as you would want me, if my time were 
 my own," I told her; "but I can't ask Janet 
 to " 
 
 "Oh, I'll fix Janet," she interrupted; "just 
 you leave me to manage that! " 
 
 By "fix," she means "pay"; she fixed me, too, 
 by pressing a dollar bill into my hand when we 
 got ashore. I didn't want to take it, but she said 
 if I would not accept it, she could not ask me to 
 row her again. So I am a whole dollar richer, 
 and know all about the finger-ring lady, too! 
 
 Well, I have begun my French lessons, and 
 I must say they are not just what I expected. 
 Mrs. Makart does not use a grammar at all and 
 says she doesn't remember ever having studied 
 it when she went to school. But as I want most 
 to know how to pronounce the words and what 
 letters not to pronounce, I guess I shall be able 
 to manage the grammar part by myself. 
 
 While I was taking my lesson, Geoffrey had 
 a good time playing with the wood-chopper, 
 at the back of the house. He has taken such a 
 fancy to the man, that he did not want to go back 
 to the Lodge with me. He kicked and screamed 
 at the top. of his voice, when I took hold of his 
 hand: 
 
 "No no I will not go to the big house. I
 
 222 SANDPEEP 
 
 will stay here I will play with hims he trow 
 me up so high" - stretching his arms above his 
 head "like my booful papa over the water, not 
 the big papa in the big house." 
 
 Mrs. Makart laughed, caught him in her arms, 
 and hugged him. 
 
 " Please excuse me, Miss Brenson," she said 
 when she let him go. "I cannot help treating 
 the dear little motherless boy as if he were 
 my own, and not the son of my brother's rich 
 employer." 
 
 "I guess Mr. Warrington would not object," 
 I allowed. "The only thing you must not do 
 is to talk French; he will not learn English 
 if people talk French to him, you see." 
 
 "I understand. His mother was a French- 
 woman, wasn't she?" 
 
 "She is she is not dead." 
 
 "They told my brother at the Lodge that she 
 died years ago. Is Mr. Warrington divorced 
 from her?" 
 
 " Not yet " 
 
 "You think he will be?" she asked quickly, 
 and seemed interested. 
 
 "I don't know, I'm sure," I answered, "but I 
 should think both of them would want a divorce, 
 if they don't intend to live together again." 
 
 "Yes, I should think so," she agreed, and then 
 asked me if Mr. Warrington seemed fond of 
 Geoffrey.
 
 SANDPEEP 223 
 
 "Why, of course! Why shouldn't he be fond 
 of his own son? " 
 
 "True, though a father who was separated from 
 his wife might not be attached to his children." 
 
 "That isn't the sort of father Mr. Warrington 
 is," I answered. "I must go now Geoffrey is 
 tearing down the lane after Bonny and I must 
 not lose sight of him." 
 
 "He was out of your sight all the time you 
 were taking your lesson," she allowed, smiling. 
 
 "But he wasn't out of hearing," I answered. 
 "I knew he was safe with the wood-chopper." 
 
 "Yes, he was perfectly safe with the wood- 
 chopper," she agreed. 
 
 After supper I was practicing a piece of music 
 Miss Warrington gave me, when James came 
 to tell me that "Mr. Haskell, from Bunker's 
 Cove," wanted to speak to me at the side en- 
 trance. From the way James looked, I know 
 he thinks, as Janet does, that Zemro is my com- 
 pany. I found the poor boy sitting on the porch 
 railing, and said, "Hello, Zem," as cheerfully 
 as I could. 
 
 "Hello," he answered, and looked solemn as 
 an owl. 
 
 "Anything the matter at home?" I asked. 
 
 "Nawthin 'cept Aunt Hit hed a spell of 
 her hecups th' smornin'." 
 
 I knew he hadn't come all the way from the 
 Cove just to tell me aunt had the hiccoughs;
 
 224 SANDPEEP 
 
 and I was prepared to hear him say what I did 
 not want to hear, when he surprised me by telling 
 me he had a chance to sell the Keren. 
 
 "Sell the Keren? Oh, Zem! what do you 
 want to sell her for?" 
 
 "Money I want a hundurd dollars." 
 
 "But the sloop is worth more than a hundred 
 dollars." 
 
 " Yes, she be, 'n' I cal'late to git more, but a 
 hundurd dollar's all I need jes now. I want to 
 go cruisin' with ' Si ' Wasgott to West Indy. His 
 vessil's goin' on a tradin' cruise, 'n' he wants I 
 should go with him as pardner. Hiram Besom's 
 goin', too, 'n' Ernest Luscom." 
 
 "Who will buy the sloop? " I asked. 
 
 "Si's cousin Reuben." 
 
 I just couldn't bear the thought of anyone but 
 Zem owning father's sloop, and I said : 
 
 "I didn't mind it so much when you bought 
 her, for you seem like one of the family. I don't 
 see what you want to go cruising away off to the 
 West Indies for, anyhow!" 
 
 "Hain't nawthin' to keep me to home now," 
 he answered, and he swallowed hard several 
 times before he added: " 'Sides, I allus cal- 
 'lated to go on a long cruise, sometime. Lou- 
 ine never would hear to my goin', 'n' now she's 
 not here " He broke off, unable to finish 
 what he was going to say, and wiped the tears 
 from his eyes with the back of his hand.
 
 SANDPEEP 225 
 
 "Haven't you forgotten that you hired the 
 sloop and yourself to Mr. Warrington for as 
 long as he wants you?" I asked, after a minute. 
 
 " N no " sob " I hain't " sob "fur- 
 gotbut Aunt Hit 'lowed mebbe you could git 
 him to let me back out. I hain't likely to git 
 sech a good chance to make some money again, 
 'n' Si's a fust-class capting to ship with." 
 
 "What does aunt say to selling the sloop?" 
 
 "She's willin' I should sell her, ef you be." 
 
 I thought for several minutes; then an idea 
 came suddenly into my head. 
 
 "I don't want to stand in the way of your 
 making some money, Zem," I said. "When 
 does Silas's vessel sail?" 
 
 "Some time next month." 
 
 "All right! I won't hinder you from selling 
 the sloop, but wait a few days, until Saturday, 
 anyhow, before you tell Reuben he may have 
 her will you? " 
 
 "Ef you want I should," he agreed, but I 
 could see that he didn't like the idea. 
 
 "Thank you. I won't ask you to wait longer 
 than Saturday. I may have something to tell 
 you then, that you will like to hear." 
 
 "Why don't you tell it to me now, 'stid of 
 waitin' till Sat'day, I want to know? " 
 
 " Because I am not sure of it myself, now. Just 
 have patience until Saturday, and I promise I will 
 ask Mr. Warrington to let you throw up your
 
 226 SANDPEEP 
 
 bargain." I laid my hand on the door-knob, 
 and he got down from the railing. 
 
 "All right, Sandpeep," he said. "I'll wait till 
 Sat'day to please you." 
 
 I was inside the door before he had stepped 
 off the porch, for I was in a dreadful hurry to 
 carry out my idea. 
 
 I hunted up Janet and asked her if she 
 thought she could give Miss Helmsley a note 
 without anyone seeing her. She said she could, 
 and I hurried to my room, and wrote this: 
 
 " Please, Miss Helmsley, may I speak to you, 
 
 right away, where no one else will hear me? If I 
 
 may, please tell Janet where will be the best place 
 
 for me to see you, and oblige me a thousand times. 
 
 "Yours respectfully, 
 
 "Keren H. Brenson. " 
 
 Janet soon came back and told me Miss 
 Helmsley would see me at once, in the library. 
 
 It wasn't long before I was in the library, talk- 
 ing fast as my tongue could wag, asking Miss 
 Helmsley if she could tell me the name of the 
 lady with hair like mine, and where she lived, 
 and if she really believed the lady would pay me 
 a hundred dollars for my hair. 
 
 "Why, Miss Brenson," she exclaimed, "you 
 surely do not think of cutting off your lovely hair ? " 
 
 "I need the money so very much," I explained. 
 
 "Tell me what you need it for? " and she asked 
 so kindly, that I told her:
 
 SANDPEEP 227 
 
 "Zemro Haskell, the gentleman who owns the 
 sloop Mr. Warrington uses, has a chance to go 
 cruising in a trading vessel and needs a hundred 
 dollars. He wants to sell the sloop, which used 
 to belong to my father, and as I just can't bear 
 to think of anybody but him or myself owning her, 
 I want the money to lend him." 
 
 She looked at me in such a knowing way, I 
 added quickly: 
 
 "I love the sloop as well as if she was one of 
 the family, Miss Helmsley; father built her, and 
 called her after me, and if Reuben Wasgott buys 
 her, he will, just as like as not, change her name, 
 and carry her away down to Peskyeel, where 
 he lives - 
 
 " Where in the world is that? " she interrupted. 
 
 "Excuse me," I said, and got red in the face, 
 "that is what we Cove folks call Presque Isle." 
 
 "Oh," she laughed. "Very well, I will do 
 what I can. To-morrow morning, give me a 
 strand of your hair, enough to show the color 
 and length, and I'll send it to the lady." 
 
 "Can I have her answer by Saturday? " 
 
 "If she is at home, yes; for I shall ask her to 
 reply at once." 
 
 "Thank you a thousand times, dear Miss 
 Helmsley," I said, and I could have hugged her. 
 
 "Don't thank me until we hear whether you 
 may transform yourself into a corn-colored mop! " 
 
 I may have been mistaken the lamps had
 
 228 SANDPEEP 
 
 not been lighted in the library, and it was too 
 dark to see plainly but I think I saw Mr. 
 Fairboro slip out of one of the long windows, 
 to the veranda, as I was going out the door. I 
 should hate it dreadfully if he heard what I told 
 Miss Helmsley. 
 
 Not until after I had combed out my hair care- 
 fully the next morning, to cut the strand for Miss 
 Helmsley, did I realize fully what I intended to 
 do. I couldn't bear to think of it. I laid the 
 scissors on the table, and went to the window, 
 where I stood thinking hard, wishing that dol- 
 lars grew on trees and might be had for the 
 picking, like berries. But there was no other 
 way to hinder Reuben Wasgott from taking the 
 Keren away off, where I might never see her 
 again. My hair had to be cut. 
 
 Just then I saw Zemro crossing the lawn to- 
 ward the stables, and I was sure that something 
 had happened to aunt. 
 
 "Hello, Zem!" I called. 
 
 He stopped, looked up, then came toward the 
 tower, and said before I could speak again: 
 
 "Nawthin' hain't happened to Aunt Hit. One 
 of the men from the stable come to the Cove 
 last night, to ast me to come to the Lodge airly 
 th' smornin', 't Dr. Parke wanted to see me." 
 
 "Have you seen him? What did he want?" 
 
 "Yes, I seen him, 'n' he wants I should sell 
 the sloop to him "
 
 SANDPEEP 229 
 
 "He wants to buy the sloop?'' I interrupted, 
 surprised. "What in the world does he mean 
 to do with her, I should like to know?" 
 
 "Sail her, I cal'late leastways, that's what 
 folks doos with boats! He 'lows he'll hire you 
 to take care of the sloop for him, when he hain't 
 here, 'n' I guess you druther he'd hev her 'n 
 Reuben Wasgott." 
 
 "I should just guess I would!" I answered. 
 I don't know which I was gladdest for that 
 the Keren was not to be taken away, or that my. 
 hair need not be cut off. "Of course, the doctor 
 will arrange with Mr. Warrington about your 
 throwing up your bargain?" I allowed. 
 
 "He sez he'll fix it up all right, 'n' Reuben is 
 to sail the sloop in my place. Hain't you comin' 
 down to the door?" 
 
 "I can't spare the time." 
 
 "Be you comin' home Sat'day?" 
 
 "Saturday or Sunday," I answered; and, see- 
 ing that he would keep on talking as long as I 
 stopped to listen, I added: "Good-bye. I am 
 glad the doctor's going to buy the sloop," and 
 came away from the window, Poor Zem!
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 1MET Dr. Parke in the lower hall, when I was 
 coming from breakfast. 
 
 "Good morning, Sandpeep," he said he 
 always calls me "Sandpeep" when no one else 
 is by "I was just about to send for you. I 
 want a few minutes' conversation before you go 
 to the schoolroom." 
 
 "I think I know what you are going to tell 
 me," I answered. 
 
 "Then you have seen Haskell?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, and I can't tell you how glad I 
 am that you are going to be the owner of the 
 Keren" 
 
 "And will you be her caretaker, when I don't 
 want to use her? " 
 
 "Most willingly! You know how much I love 
 the dear old boat! How am I ever to pay you 
 back for all your kindness " 
 
 " Tut-tut," he interrupted. " There is no special 
 kindness in buying a boat I have long wanted 
 to own." 
 
 "I never even guessed you wanted to own the 
 Keren" I said. 
 
 "Didn't you? I didn't discover how very 
 much I wanted it until lately." 
 
 230
 
 SANDPEEP 231 
 
 "How lately?" I inquired, a sudden suspicion 
 coming into my head. 
 
 "Well, to be accurate, yesterday." 
 
 "Did you see Miss Helmsley just before? 
 Was it anything she said to you that made you 
 want a boat?" 
 
 "Anything Miss Helmsley said to me?" he 
 repeated, with a little twinkle in his eyes, letting 
 on he was trying to remember. "Why no 
 
 ah, here comes the young lady herself!" 
 as Miss Helmsley came running down the 
 stairs, with a letter in her hand. "Suppose 
 you ask her a few questions, you inquisitive 
 Yankee!" 
 
 Before I could say anything, she began: 
 "Have you got the that you know? " 
 
 holding up the letter, which was unsealed, and 
 
 giving me a look I understood. 
 
 "No I am sorry I troubled you to write the 
 
 letter," I answered, giving her the same kind 
 
 of a look. "You don't need to send it. Dr. 
 
 Parke has just told me he is going to buy the 
 
 buy Zemro HaskelFs sloop." 
 
 "Aha!" she exclaimed, and looked at the doc- 
 tor in a knowing way; "now I understand the 
 mysterious carrying-on between you and Mr. 
 Warrington last night." 
 
 "Mysterious carrying-on?" he repeated; "did 
 we carry on mysteriously?" 
 
 "You did! I was in the billiard-room, wait-
 
 232 SANDPEEP 
 
 ing for Carrington, who had challenged me to 
 a game. You and Mr. Warrington were in the 
 smoking-room, and as the door was partly open 
 I could hear every word you said, without listen- 
 ing closely. By and by I heard Car at the door, 
 which opens from the hall: 
 
 "'Brian, may I see you a moment, on a matter 
 of importance?' and Mr. Warrington went into 
 the hall, where ensued a whispered conversation. 
 When Car joined me are you following me 
 closely, Doctor?" she broke off to ask, shaking 
 her finger at him and smiling. 
 
 "As the fox follows the hare! Proceed." 
 
 "Well, Car won the first shot, and as he 
 always scores eighteen or twenty points before 
 he misses, I had ample time to " 
 
 "Eavesdrop!" interposed the doctor, laughingly. 
 
 "I didn't! I couldn't help hearing what you 
 were talking about, and I wasn't going to stuff 
 cotton into my ears because two gossiping men 
 chose to be so indiscreet as to discuss secrets 
 with the doors open. Now, don't interrupt me 
 again - 
 
 "If I agree to admit your premises" he 
 did interrupt "will you agree to drop further 
 argument?" He looked at her in a way she 
 must have understood, though I didn't, for she 
 laughed again and said: 
 
 "I agree, but you must let me prove how won- 
 derfully clever I am at induction I believe
 
 SANDPEEP 233 
 
 that's what you call it! I heard Car tell his man 
 last night, that he should want his horse at six 
 o'clock this morning. I knew something out 
 of the ordinary was going on, for my young 
 gentleman isn't one of your early birds, usually! 
 So I managed to get awake about six, and when 
 I heard horse-hoofs, I jumped out of bed and 
 peeped through the curtains I was on the 
 trail of a mystery, you know well, Car was 
 already in the saddle, when an elderly person 
 who shall be nameless, for reasons came 
 hustling out to the terrace. 'Hello, Car!' he 
 called to the rider, who was impatient at the 
 delay. 'Are you going near Bunker's Cove?' 
 
 '"Yes in that direction; why?' 'If you 
 should happen to see Haskell, tell him I have 
 decided to take the sloop at his price.' 'Do 
 you mean the Keren?" 1 Car asked, staring at 
 the nameless elderly person. Don't you ad- 
 mire the discreet way I tell a story, Doctor?" 
 laughing. 
 
 "Very much, indeed, but " 
 
 "Wait until I have finished," she interrupted. 
 'Yes,' answered the elderly person, 'I have been 
 thinking of buying the sloop for some time, but 
 couldn't make up my mind until yesterday ' 
 'I dare say,' Car interrupted with fine irony, 'it 
 was something Brian told you last night that 
 made you decide?' 'All that he said, when I 
 told him I was going to buy the sloop was, that
 
 234 SANDPEEP 
 
 it would be a good purchase, as she is a superior 
 boat.' 'Oh, you're deep, Doctor, deep!' 
 
 "Car looked at the person, then, his counte- 
 nance expressing what he was too polite to say in 
 words, he galloped down the avenue. When he 
 came back at breakfast time I saw him hand a 
 roll of banknotes to Mr. Warrington, and heard 
 him say: 'Thanks for the loan. I didn't need 
 the money. Doctor Lem will explain why!' 
 There! Mr. Doctor, as our German friends say, 
 what think you of my 'argument'?" 
 
 "An argumenium ad, feminam, truly, Miss 
 ' Portia' Helmsley," he answered, and laughed. I 
 don't like "Portia" as well as "Alice," which is 
 the only one of Miss Helmsley 's names I have 
 heard, until the doctor called her bv the other 
 one. 
 
 I understood enough of what Miss Helmsley 
 said to the doctor to convince me that I had seen 
 Mr. Fairboro slip out of the library after I had 
 talked to her about selling my hair. Kind gen- 
 tleman that he is! he was going to lend Zemro 
 the hundred dollars and had to borrow it from 
 Mr. Warrington! It was lucky the doctor de- 
 cided when he did. It prevented Mr. Fairboro 
 from going into debt, and made me the care- 
 taker, which is 'most as good as being owner 
 of the dear old sloop. 
 
 Though I had the care of Geoffrey the whole 
 week, all day, and evening, too, I was able to
 
 SANDPEEP 235 
 
 take a French lesson every afternoon, for he was 
 always more than willing to go to the cottage 
 with me. I had only to tell him that, if he would 
 study his lesson nicely, I would take him to see 
 Mrs. Makart, to make him try with all his might 
 to learn it. 
 
 I haven't had a chance to ask Mr. Warrington 
 if he would object to Geoffrey's playing with the 
 wood-cutter. I don't believe he would, though, 
 if he could see how much his little son enjoys 
 himself with his grown-up playfellow. Malston 
 and Mrs. Makart both say the man is very re- 
 spectable and honest, and while Geoffrey is with 
 him he is sure to be safe from the tramp. I 
 haven't made the man's acquaintance yet; he 
 is shy of ladies, Mrs. Makart told me, and 
 will not come into the house while I am there. 
 He is a stranger here, though he has worked 
 at the Headlands, where Malston met him. I 
 have seen him only once, indeed, and then only 
 his back; he was galloping like a horse around 
 the back yard with Geoffrey a-straddle of his 
 shoulders. 
 
 "I am afraid your wood-pile won't grow," I 
 said to Mrs. Makart, "if your wood-cutter stops 
 so often to play with Geoffrey." 
 
 "He will work all the harder for the playtime," 
 she answered. If she is satisfied I ought to be. 
 
 When I was leaving the cottage on Friday 
 afternoon, I said to Mrs. Makart: "Next week
 
 236 SANDPEEP 
 
 we can begin the music lessons. The visitors 
 who have rooms in the tower-wing are going 
 away on Monday." 
 
 "I don't like the idea of going to the Lodge," 
 she answered. 
 
 "You needn't be the least bit afraid of meeting 
 anyone," I told her. "None of the family but 
 Mr. Warrington has a room in the tower, and he 
 stays in it only at night. He moved over there 
 to be near Geoffrey." 
 
 "He must be fond of the boy, after all." 
 
 "You do talk so strangely about Mr. Warring- 
 ton," I answered, quite vexed with her. 
 
 "Please excuse me, " v she apologized humbly, 
 "but I can't help thinking that the gentleman, 
 who is so proud and haughty, would be fonder 
 of the dear little boy if he were brighter, and 
 if if the mother were different." 
 
 "I don't know, I'm sure. The poor little 
 fellow can't help it that he wasn't born smart, 
 and no reasonable person would think less of 
 him because his mother isn't what she ought to 
 be. We are all trying our best to make him for- 
 get he has a mother." 
 
 I was surprised to see how angry she got when 
 I said that; she looked exactly like one of our 
 hens when she thinks something is going to harm 
 her chicks. 
 
 "Do you imagine you will succeed?" she 
 asked.
 
 SANDPEEP 237 
 
 "Why, yes, he forgets easily. Even a smart 
 child would forget his mother if he never saw 
 her, or heard anyone talk about her; so you 
 can't blame poor stupid little Geoffrey." 
 
 I don't know what Mrs. Makart would have 
 answered if the boy hadn't rushed into the house 
 just then. His cheeks were red as fire and his 
 eyes shining like stars: "Come! Come!" he 
 cried, trying to draw me toward the kitchen. 
 "Come see me jump over hims head. See me 
 do so." He let go my hand and, quick as a 
 wink, turned a "summerset," as we used to call 
 it at school, and was on his feet again, looking 
 proud as a peacock. 
 
 "Well!" I exclaimed, and clapped my hands, 
 which pleased him greatly. "You are smart 
 enough at summersetting, anyhow! But don't 
 jump over the man's head again. You might 
 hurt yourself. I must tell him not to teach you 
 dangerous tricks. What is the wood-cutter's 
 name?" I asked Mrs. Makart. I was moving 
 toward the kitchen when she stopped me and 
 said: 
 
 "Please don't, Miss Brenson, you might offend 
 him, he is so touchy. I will speak to him myself. 
 His name is Andrew." 
 
 I made her promise again to speak to him 
 about Geoffrey, and said I should never forgive 
 myself if any harm came to the boy while he was 
 in my charge.
 
 238 SANDPEEP 
 
 "You need not be afraid," she assured me, 
 "and I thank you for his mother for taking 
 such good care of him." 
 
 Thank me for his mother! As if I wanted 
 thanks from the dancing- woman ! Ever since 
 Miss Helmsley told me what sort of person Geof- 
 frey's mother is, I try to think that she and my 
 finger-ring lady are not the same. Anyone who 
 had seen her at our house that stormy night, 
 and the next morning when she gave me the ring, 
 certainly would not believe she would kick up 
 her heels on the back of a galloping horse! 
 
 Miss Warrington told me on Saturday morning 
 that Janet could take charge of Geoffrey again 
 over Sunday. So after dinner I started to the 
 cottage to fetch my French lesson-book, which I 
 had left there on Friday. 
 
 The door was shut, and after I had knocked 
 twice without hearing Mrs. Makart's "Come in," 
 she is nearly always in the front room wait- 
 ing for me I opened the door, intending to take 
 the book and slip away without letting her know 
 I was there. I had the book under my arm, and 
 was tiptoeing back to the door, when a clapping 
 of hands and a man's voice exclaiming: "Well 
 done, ma petite Lina!" made me stop right in 
 the middle of the floor. I know enough French 
 already to know that "ma petite" means "my 
 little," and "Lina" is Mrs. Makart's first name. 
 As it wasn't Malston's voice, 'I was curious to
 
 Well done, ma petite Lina ' " PAGE 238
 
 SANDPEEP 239 
 
 see who could be talking to her in such a familiar 
 way, and went into the kitchen to take a peep 
 from the window. I saw a man with a broad 
 back, like the wood-cutter's, but there was no 
 beard on his face. He made me think of some- 
 one, though I couldn't remember whom. 
 
 Just then he said: "Try it once more, petite; 
 it does my heart good to see you at your old 
 tricks again." 
 
 "No more to-day," Mrs. Makart's voice an- 
 swered. "I am out of breath. Remember how 
 long it is since I did it." She said something I 
 could not hear and the man answered: 
 
 "Yes, don't think there is any danger of that! 
 nobody comes up here but the governess, and 
 she won't be here for an hour or more. Well," 
 he added, "if you insist, I must obey! Between 
 you and Gerry I haven't the peace of a dog!" 
 He laughed, put his hand inside the bosom of his 
 shirt, and took out a bunch of black hair, which 
 he fastened on his chin, and my soul and 
 body ! it was the tramp himself ! For a minute 
 I was "clean scundered," as aunt says. Then I 
 began to think: Did Mrs. Makart know he was 
 a dangerous tramp? Maybe she was a lady 
 tramp! they certainly were very well acquainted 
 with each other! Was Malston a tramp, too? 
 and was his beard false? No wonder "Andrew" 
 was too "shy" to come into the cottage while I 
 was there! But
 
 240 SANDPEEP 
 
 "No use to stand here 'butting,'" I said to 
 myself; " there's something going on here that 
 needs to be explained. Honest folks don't let on 
 to be what they are not! Maybe there are other 
 false things beside beards!" I tiptoed into the 
 front room and laid the book on the table, ex- 
 actly as I had found it, so that Mrs. Makart 
 might not suspect that I had been there. Then 
 I left the house, and sneaked like a fox through 
 the bushes outside the fence, to a place where I 
 could get a good look at the back yard, and see 
 what was going on. 
 
 Something was going on, sure enough! or, 
 rather, something had gone off! A gray wig; a 
 black veil; a pair of blue specs! They were ly- 
 ing on a box, and beside them sat a handsome 
 young lady, with Mrs. Makart's voice. Two 
 long braids of hair, black as her shining eyes, 
 hung down her back to her waist, and such a 
 frock as she had on! The skirt was short as 
 an under-petticoat, just a little below her knees; 
 the body was like that of a baby's frock, low 
 neck, and just little straps over her shoulders for 
 sleeves! White slippers were on her little feet. 
 Though I was dreadfully shocked, I couldn't 
 help but admire her, she looked so lovely. But 
 the very idea of wearing a frock like that before 
 a man! 
 
 I was afraid I might be seen, so I crept away, 
 noiselessly as I had come, and ran down the lane,
 
 SANDPEEP 241 
 
 fast as I could go, intending to tell Dr. Parke 
 what I had seen and heard. I could not have 
 told Mr. Warrington! At the Lodge gates I 
 met Malston with two horses he was exercis- 
 ing. He stopped and asked me if I wouldn't 
 like another riding lesson. 
 
 "Not this morning, thank you," I answered; 
 "I haven't time." 
 
 "That is a pity! You might ride in the 
 avenue, as everybody at the Lodge has gone 
 away on the yacht, to be gone until to-morrow." 
 "Did Dr. Parke go, too?" 
 "Yes, Miss; and the little master." 
 He must have noticed how put out I was, for 
 , he looked sharply at me for a second, before he 
 galloped off up the lane. 
 
 I wish I could have been a mouse, with my 
 ears, when he and the other two deceitful 
 creatures at the cottage got together!
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 " WAS jes' thinkin' you wa'n't comin' home 
 
 to-day," aunt said, when I walked into the 
 
 shed where she was shucking lobsters. 
 
 "The Ella Eudory's 'most ready for sea, 'n' 
 
 Zemro's over to the Haven now," 
 
 "The Ella Eudora? Oh, you mean Si Was- 
 gott's vessel. I guess Zem is anxious to be 
 off?" I said, and hung up my hat. 
 
 "He wus." 
 
 "Was? Isn't he now? I thought all the 
 papers were signed for him to go." 
 
 "So they be; but Zemro 'lows he'll be willin' 
 to resk losin' the hundurd dollars he put into the 
 vessil, ef he was certing he could git a chance 
 haulin' wood, or somethin', to the Headlands. 
 Then he could come home Sundays, to meetin'." 
 
 "He must have got rich all of a sudden to talk 
 about losing a hundred dollars," I allowed. 
 "What has come over him? He must be out 
 of his mind." 
 
 " 'Pears 'sef you druther he went away 'n 
 stop to home," aunt said after a minute. 
 
 "I certainly think he ought not to back out, 
 now that he has the chance he has wanted all his 
 life." 
 
 242
 
 SANDPEEP 243 
 
 "I shell be pow'ful lonesome when Zemro's 
 gone." 
 
 "Not any more lonesome than you were before 
 he came to stop with you." 
 
 "N n o, only I hev got used to hevin' him 
 'round, 'n' he's pow'ful handy." 
 
 "Yes, and he's kind; but we can't expect him 
 to stop with us always." 
 
 "Guess he'd admire to," aunt allowed, in a 
 way that made me stop, pail and broom in hand, 
 to look at her. 
 
 "Why, Aunt Hit Brenson, I do believe you 
 want him to stay at home!" 
 
 She got red in the face, really and truly! 
 
 " 'Tain't me, Sandpeep, wants he should stop 
 to home; it's Zemro hisself. He 'lows 't me 'n' 
 you won't hev no one to do anything fur us, cut 
 wood, 'n' " 
 
 "As if I couldn't do that myself," I inter- 
 rupted. "I guess if he would tell the honest 
 truth, he's afraid of getting seasick, so far away 
 from the land." 
 
 " 'Tain't Zemro's stummick thet troubles him, 
 it's it's higher up," and a sly smile 
 showed among the wrinkles at the corners of 
 her eyes. 
 
 "He's got the 'palpitations,' has he, like Lou- 
 ine used to have them?" I said, and laughed. 
 
 "Not 'jes ezackly like Louine's, they hain't. 
 Zemro sets a heap of store by you, Sandpeep, 'n'
 
 244 SANDPEEP 
 
 ef you would ast him to stop to home, he'd kerry 
 you 'round on his hands, 'n' 
 
 "He'd have a time carrying me around on his 
 hands," I interrupted, and laughed again. Then 
 1 said more seriously: "I see now why you are 
 talking this way about Zem, and you may just as 
 well stop, for I won't > have him! There!" 
 
 "Wall, you needn't bite my head off," aunt 
 answered. "I hain't said 't I wanted you should 
 hev him; I jes' promised I would ast you." 
 
 " Oho! You just promised you would ask me? 
 You dreadful, sly old Aunt Hit! Well, you can 
 tell him you asked me, and that I said, 'No, 
 ma'am, thank you kindly.' Now, put on your 
 bonnet, and go to see Mandy, or somebody else. 
 I'm going to give this house a regular cleaning, 
 and I don't want cluttering folks in my way! 
 Here's your bonnet," I fetched it from behind 
 the door, and put it on her head, "Now, be 
 off with you, you sly old boots!" After I had 
 kissed her, and given her a good hug "and 
 don't you come sparking me again, for Zemro, 
 or anybody else." 
 
 Zemro did not get back from South Haven 
 until late in the evening. Aunt and I had gone 
 to bed, she hi the spare-chamber, and I in the 
 loft, where I sleep while Zem is with us, and has 
 the closet-room.
 
 SANDPEEP 245 
 
 I heard him come into the shed, where he took 
 .off his boots before coming into the kitchen; 
 then he tiptoed to the front door, and I knew he 
 had gone there to see if my hat was on the peg. 
 Poor silly boy! I wish he did not think so much 
 of me! 
 
 I lay awake a long time after Zem had gone 
 to bed, watching the moonlight creep along the 
 rafters, and thinking, thinking. One's brain 
 must be glad when sleep closes the eyes and it 
 is free to do as it likes. Then, its playtime has 
 come. My brain had a good time, after I went 
 to sleep at last, playing with a little barefooted 
 Sandpeep, who ran, and hopped along the shore, 
 just like the other little Sandpeeps with feathers. 
 She waded in the water, sang strange songs, let 
 the little waves tug at her skirts and wash over 
 her bare knees; let a smiling, joking, fairy-story 
 prince draw her picture, which he called the pict- 
 ure of a mermaid. Then the prince and the 
 waves and the beach vanished, and the same 
 little Sandpeep was in a beautiful garden, pick- 
 ing flowers that looked like silver quarters; and 
 a lovely fairy queen came, and gave her a shiny 
 ring that looked like the moon. It was the 
 moon, too; for when Sandpeep tried to put it on 
 her finger, it flew away, up to the sky, where it 
 hung among the stars, and laughed and laughed, 
 when the fairy queen jumped on a snow-white 
 horse, and began to dance and kick up her heels
 
 246 SANDPEEP 
 
 to the music the wind played on a big fiddle with 
 strings made of yellow hair! 
 
 Oh, but it was a funny dream! The sun shin- 
 ing on my face wakened me from it, and a strong 
 smell of frying fish told me how long I had let 
 my brain do as it pleased. 
 
 I jumped out of bed and began to put on my 
 clothes. I don't wash and comb myself in the 
 shed now, as I used before I went to the Lodge. 
 I have a barrel I found among the driftwood on 
 the shore, for a table, and a tin basin I bought at 
 the Headlands; a piece of looking-glass fastened 
 against the wall with tacks, does for a "mirror.'* 
 
 I was combing the tangles out of my hair 
 and thinking over my strange dream. "There!" 
 I exclaimed, when a sudden thought popped 
 jnto my head. "That is just who she is! 
 The finger-ring lady Geoffrey's mother the 
 dancing- woman Mr. Warrington's wife! What 
 a stupid not to have guessed it when I saw her 
 without the gray wig and blue specs! Just to 
 think! all the time I have been pitying the de- 
 ceitful creature and taking Geoffrey to see her 
 because she grieved for her own little boy, she 
 has been laughing at me! She and Malston and 
 Andrew must have had lots of fun talking about 
 me. I wonder who Andrew is? Another brother, 
 I dare say; and because he found he couldn't 
 steal Geoffrey, the three of them came here to 
 live. The dancing- woman is fond of her little
 
 SANDPEEP 247 
 
 boy, after all, and I should like to tell Miss 
 Helmsley so, but I must not breathe to a soul 
 what I have found out, until the doctor comes 
 back. He will know what is best to do; and 
 until he comes I must keep my mouth shut and 
 my eyes and ears open - 
 
 " Be you comin' down soon, Sandpeep?" 
 Aunt's voice interrupted my wondering and 
 thinking and made me hurry down to breakfast. 
 
 Zemro, in his shirt-sleeves, came in from the 
 shed as I was climbing down the loft-ladder, and 
 without looking toward me, or saying a word, 
 sat down at the table and helped himself to the 
 fish-hash. 
 
 I made up my mind to let him grump all he 
 had a mind to; I would not speak first. I just 
 talked to aunt as if he weren't there. When he 
 had swallowed the last bite of doughnut and 
 emptied his cup, he pushed his chair back from 
 the table, got up, and said: 
 
 "The Ella Eudory's goin' to sail 't flood tide 
 t' morrow mornin'. I shell go aboard th' 
 sevenin'." 
 
 "Aunt has told him her sparking wasn't any 
 use," I said to myself; to him I said, forgetting 
 my resolution not to speak first: "I do hope you 
 may have a pleasant voyage, Zem, and lots of 
 good luck!" 
 
 "I hain't cal'latin' hevin' much good luck," 
 he allowed, without looking toward me; "hain't
 
 248 SANDPEEP 
 
 never hed any. Jes' like's not, one of them 
 West Indy harricanes '11 blow the Ella Eudory to 
 flinders, V I don't care a dum ef it doos!" 
 
 "Now, Zemro Haskell," aunt looked up from 
 blowing the hot coffee in her saucer to say, 
 "you're flyin' in the face of Prov'dence, talkin' 
 so. Don't guess Si Wasgott wants a harricane 
 should blow his vessil to flinders. There," as he 
 was going to answer back, "don't you git sassy. 
 I won't hev it. You jes' go 'long 'n' clean your- 
 self up fur meetin'. Sech talk 's wicked 's cussin', 
 so 't be." 
 
 He hunched his shoulders, and looked what 
 he didn't dare say after the scolding; but he 
 slammed the shed door so hard that every dish 
 on the table jumped. I pity the poor boy after 
 all. It is just dreadful not to have anything to 
 look forward to. 
 
 As I didn't want to be alone with Zem before 
 he went to South Haven, I invited Aramanda 
 Stinson to spend the last evening at home with 
 us. She was very glad to come, for she likes 
 Zem and who wouldn't, if he didn't want to 
 marry her? But he managed after all to say, 
 when he was bidding me good-bye: "Mebbe I 
 hain't 's smart 's thet rusticator, Sandpeep, 'n' 
 hevn't got es nice close, but I'm willin' to bet 
 the money the doctor guv me fur the sloop, all 
 but the hundurd dollars 'ts in the Ella Eudory, 
 'n' which you're to hev ef I don't come back,
 
 SANDPEEP 249 
 
 thet he wouldn't set more store by you 'n I 
 would, ef you would of bed me." Then he 
 swallowed hard, and squeezed my hand so tight 
 the ringers ached for ever so long afterward. 
 Poor Zem!
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 1HAD walked about a mile from home, on 
 Monday morning, when I met the cart com- 
 ing to fetch me. Malston was driving. 
 
 "I am sorry I am so late, Miss," he said, 
 when he helped me in, "but one of the traces 
 broke soon after I left the stables, and it took me 
 some time to mend it." 
 
 I told him I should not have minded walking 
 all the way, and asked if the Kelpie had come 
 back. 
 
 "Yes, Miss; last night." 
 
 "Is Mrs. Makart well?" I asked after a 
 minute, though I could hardly call her by that 
 name. 
 
 "Yes, Miss, thank you. Though my sister does 
 not look strong, she has very good health if 
 only she could get over the loss of her little boy!" 
 
 "Don't you think she is more cheerful?" I 
 asked, and as he had turned to look at some- 
 thing on his side of the road, I took a good look 
 at his beard; but I couldn't tell if it was stuck 
 on like Andrew's, it looked so natural. 
 
 "Sometimes I think she is, Miss. She used to 
 be happy as the day is long, but the loss of her 
 boy was a terrible blow," 
 
 250
 
 SANDPEEP 251 
 
 Such deceitf ulness ! I was so vexed with him 
 that I could not say a word; and he did not 
 speak again until we were near the Lodge gates. 
 Then he said: 
 
 "I hope you will call at the cottage this after- 
 noon, Miss, and take the little master with you. 
 My poor sister gets so lonely when she does not 
 see you every day." 
 
 I told him I did not know if I should be able 
 to take a lesson that afternoon. I would rather 
 never see the dancing- woman again. 
 
 "My sister might go to the Lodge to give you 
 a music lesson," he allowed. 
 
 "If I am too busy to go to the cottage, I 
 shouldn't have time to take a music lesson," I 
 answered, in a way that made him say quickly: 
 
 "Please pardon me, Miss, for being so imperti- 
 nent as to suggest that my sister should go to see 
 you. My anxiety about her I am really afraid 
 she may lose her mind makes me forget my 
 place. She has become attached to you, and 
 already grieves at the thought of losing you and 
 the little master." 
 
 "She doesn't need to grieve yet," I answered 
 coldly. "She won't lose us for several months; 
 not until Miss Warrington goes back to the city." 
 
 "When will that be, may I ask, Miss?" 
 
 "I don't know; some time next fall. I shouldn't 
 think she would care to stay after Mr. Warring- 
 ton goes '
 
 252 SANDPEEP 
 
 "When is he going?" Malston was in such a 
 hurry to ask the question, he forgot that it was 
 "impertinent" to interrupt me. I told him I did 
 not know, but when he asked if I knew where he 
 was going, I said: 
 
 "To Africa, I believe; I heard the family talk 
 about it at the breakfast table one morning." 
 
 "He would not be likely to take the little 
 master with him, would he?" 
 
 "I don't know. Mr. Warrington doesn't tell 
 me what he intends to do, and I never ask him." 
 
 I guess that gave him to understand I didn't 
 make a practice of peeking into other folks' busi- 
 ness, and neither of us spoke again until he 
 helped me out of the cart, when I thanked him 
 for coming for me. 
 
 I could hardly wait until I got into the house, 
 I was so anxious to see the doctor. Mr. War- 
 rington was on the terrace, and after I had 
 answered his pleasant "Good-morning, Miss 
 Brenson," I asked if he knew where Dr. Parke 
 was. 
 
 "He and Mr. Fairboro have gone to New 
 York." 
 
 "To New York?" I said, like an echo. I felt 
 as if my heart had stopped beating, as if some- 
 body had hit me and knocked the breath out 
 of me. 
 
 "The news seems to distress you?" he al- 
 lowed, looking sharply at me.
 
 SANDPEEP 253 
 
 "It does sir," I answered; and I hurried 
 into the house. I met Miss Helmsley and Mrs. 
 Warrington in the lower hall, dressed to go out. 
 
 "Oh, here you are!" Miss Helmsley ex- 
 claimed. "I want to tell you how sorry I am 
 that I sha'n't be able to continue the rowing 
 lessons, unless," smiling at me, "you will come 
 to North Haven to stay with me?" 
 
 "I couldn't do that," I answered, and my 
 voice seemed miles away. 
 
 "No, I know you couldn't; Geoffrey could not 
 spare his patient teacher. But you must come 
 to see me some time. I had no idea, when we 
 were out rowing the other day, that our cottage 
 
 we are going to call it Umberleigh would 
 be ready for us so soon. I am heartily sorry to 
 leave the Lodge, and my rowing teacher," giving 
 my hand a little squeeze. 
 
 I thanked her, and went up-stairs to Miss 
 Warrington' s sitting-room, to ask her if the doctor 
 was coming back. I could not stop to ask Mr. 
 Warrington; I just can't bear to have him look 
 at me as he did as if he did not trust me. 
 
 "I think he may, in a couple of weeks," Miss 
 Warrington answered; then she asked me if I 
 was ill. 
 
 "No, thank you; I am only very sorry the doc- 
 tor is not here. I wanted to speak to him about 
 
 something." 
 
 "If the 'something' is important, I can give
 
 254 SANDPEEP 
 
 you his New York address," she said, and she 
 looked at me in a strange way, too. 
 
 I said I could wait, and went on to my room. 
 I could not have trusted to a letter what I wanted 
 to tell the doctor, for Malston always carries the 
 mail to the Headlands post-office. The person 
 who will tell and act a lie, will do other mean 
 things. Malston certainly has told me more than 
 one lie, and he acts one every day. I will just 
 wait and keep my eyes and ears open until the 
 doctor gets back. I don't believe Andrew will 
 try to run away with Geoffrey, so long as his 
 mother is allowed to see him every day, and I'll 
 take good care to let her do that, much as I dis- 
 like to go to the cottage now. 
 
 The door of Mr. Warrington's room was open 
 and one of the maids was making the bed, when 
 I passed through the hall. 
 
 "Is that you, Janet?" she called. "Do come 
 here and see what I have done." 
 
 I stepped to the door and said, "It isn't Janet, 
 Agnes; can I do anything for you?" 
 
 "Oh, Miss Brenson! please excuse me. Just 
 see here what I have done," she added, near to 
 crying. "This picture was standing on the floor 
 beside the wash-stand, and I spilled some water 
 over it. See how it is daubed." 
 
 One corner of the picture was spoiled, but 
 enough was left to show a blue sky and sea, a 
 gull or two, little waves near the shore, and in
 
 SANDPEEP 255 
 
 them, knee-deep, a little girl holding up her 
 skirts with both hands, and looking at you with 
 big, dark eyes, from under tangled yellow hair. 
 
 It was little Sandpeep, sure enough! the 
 "mermaid," with two bare feet instead of a fish- 
 tail! 
 
 "What shall I do, Miss?" Agnes asked, much 
 distressed. 
 
 "I don't believe Mr. Warrington will scold," I 
 said. "He must have painted the picture, and 
 can easily paint that corner over. I should just 
 tell him how it happened." 
 
 "Oh, good gracious, Miss! not for the world 
 could I tell him, he always looks so cross. 
 Please, Miss Brenson, won't you tell him that I 
 couldn't help it?" 
 
 She looked so worried I pitied her, and said 
 I would do what I could; but to myself I said I 
 would speak to Miss Warrington instead and ask 
 her to explain. I don't like to talk to him, either, 
 when he is cross. 
 
 There was nothing to keep me from going to 
 the cottage after lessons, so, after we had had our 
 dinner, we started. I had seen Miss Warrington 
 on the terrace from my window, and told Geof- 
 frey to wait with Bonny for me on the lawn, in- 
 tending to speak to her about Agnes; but as I 
 was passing the door of Mr. Warrington' s room, 
 it opened, and he came out. 
 
 "Miss Brenson?" he called, and when I
 
 256 SANDPEEP 
 
 stopped he asked me if Geoffrey had been in 
 his room that morning. I knew right away why 
 he asked. 
 
 "If you think he spoiled the picture, sir, you 
 are mistaken. Agnes spilled some water over it. 
 I was just going to speak to Miss Warrington 
 about it, and ask her to explain to you how it 
 happened. Agnes is dreadfully sorry, sir." 
 
 "It is well that I spoke to you," he answered; 
 and he did not look in the least vexed, "for 
 I don't want my aunt to know that I am going 
 to give her the little water-color sketch. It is a 
 surprise for her birthday. Wait a moment!" 
 He went into his room and fetched the picture. 
 "Do you recognize this?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; I recognized it at once when Agnes 
 showed me how she had spoiled it. It is a pretty 
 picture." 
 
 "You did not think so once!" smiling at me. 
 He looked so like the fiddlestring gentleman then 
 all but the moustache that I could almost 
 have believed I was little Sandpeep again, with 
 the waves tickling my bare knees. 
 
 "No, because it wasn't colored then," I an- 
 swered, and smiled too. "I hope you will be able 
 to fix it up without much trouble, sir." 
 
 He said he could, and I went on down-stairs.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 1WAS walking slowly up the lane, so as not 
 to get too far ahead of Geoffrey, who was 
 chasing after squirrels among the bushes, 
 when I met Mrs. Makart running as fast as she 
 could. 
 
 "What in the world is the matter?" I asked. 
 
 She was breathing hard and pressed both 
 hands against her heart when she stopped be- 
 side me. 
 
 "Nothing nothing ' she could hardly 
 speak "I heard oh, Miss Brenson! have 
 they taken him away from me again?" 
 
 "Do you mean Geoffrey?" I asked, though I 
 knew very well she did. 
 
 "Yes yes!" wildly; "my boy my prec- 
 ious angel." 
 
 Just then the "precious angel" came running 
 out of the bushes. She caught him in her arms, 
 and kissed and hugged him so, I thought she 
 would smother him. If I had not found out that 
 she is Geoffrey's mother I should certainly have 
 believed she had gone out of her mind. 
 
 "If I had known you were coming to see me," 
 I said and I pretended I had not noticed her 
 strange acting "I should have waited for you 
 
 257
 
 258 SANDPEEP 
 
 at the Lodge. Now that you are so near there, 
 I will go back with you, and you can give me a 
 music, instead of a French, lesson." 
 
 Before she could answer, Geoffrey began to 
 kick and scream. 
 
 "No no no! I will not go back to the 
 big house. I will go to the cottage. I will play 
 with hims." 
 
 "My dear Geoffrey," I said, and took hold of 
 his hand, "we must go back to the big house, 
 because Mrs. Makart, good, kind Mrs. Makart, 
 wants to pay us a visit. Come!" 
 
 He snatched his hand from mine and ran up 
 the lane fast as he could go. . 
 
 Mrs. Makart laughed, and said, "The dar- 
 ling!" and ran after him. When she caught 
 him, she knelt beside him and pressed him close 
 to her breast. He fought and kicked for a 
 minute; then stopped and looked at her in a 
 puzzled way. The next minute he was laughing 
 and chattering French, and walking by her side 
 toward me. 
 
 "You see how easily I can manage him," she 
 said, looking at me proudly. "Only mothers 
 know how to conquer naughty children." 
 
 "You do seem to know how to make Geoffrey 
 behave," I allowed. 
 
 "I can manage all children," she assured me. 
 "I know you must think I acted very strangely 
 just now, but life is so uncertain, and I am al-
 
 SANDPEEP 259 
 
 ways expecting something terrible to happen, 
 since I lost my boy I have grown to love dear 
 little Geoffrey and I was sure something had hap- 
 pened when you did not come to the cottage at 
 the usual hour. I had not heard that the boy 
 was back from his little journey." 
 
 As no answer was needed, I said nothing, and 
 after a minute she asked if I had heard when Mr. 
 Warrington intended to go to Africa; her brother 
 had told her the gentleman was going to hunt 
 elephants and tigers. 
 
 I told her I had not heard; then she allowed 
 that it wasn't likely Geoffrey would go to Africa, 
 too. 
 
 "I don't know, I'm sure," I answered. "I 
 guess he will be sent to a good school " 
 
 "School?" she interrupted. "Send an inno- 
 cent baby like him to school?" 
 
 "Geoffrey's rather a good-sized 'baby/' I 
 said, and smiled. "He must be at least ten 
 years old." 
 
 "No; he is only no, I don't think he is as 
 old as that." 
 
 "He looks it," I said, and pretended I had not 
 noticed. I know she thinks me as stupid as her 
 stupid little son, and I shall let her keep on 
 thinking so until Dr. Parke comes back. 
 
 "Well, if he is ten," she said, "he is not bright 
 enough to be sent to school among a lot of rough 
 boys, who would tease and abuse him."
 
 260 SANDPEEP 
 
 "I guess he would be able to take care of 
 himself," and I laughed. "He knows mid- 
 dling well how to kick and scratch." 
 
 "The dear lamb! he is so full of life," she 
 said, and I could imagine how fondly her eyes 
 behind the blue specs looked after the "dear 
 lamb," who was chasing after a rabbit and yell- 
 ing like a wild Indian. 
 
 When I unlocked the tower-door, Mrs. Makart 
 said: "My brother told me how carefully every- 
 thing is kept locked up here. They must be 
 afraid of being robbed." 
 
 "I dare say they are, because they have some- 
 thing worth stealing," I answered. "We long- 
 shore folks haven't, so we never think of locking 
 our doors." 
 
 "Poverty has its advantages," she allowed, 
 laughing, and added, as she stepped into my 
 room, "but you can't complain of its disadvan- 
 tages, in this cosy nest." 
 
 "No, indeed; and I owe all this comfort to 
 dear Miss Warrington, who is kindness itself. 
 Now, play something for me." 
 
 I opened the piano, but she sat down in the 
 rocking-chair, saying: 
 
 "Let me rest first. Really, I am almost afraid 
 to. try to play, it is so long since I touched the keys. 
 Let us talk, and not bother about a lesson. You 
 can't imagine how lonely it is for me at that dreary 
 cottage, with no one to talk to all day long!"
 
 SANDPEEP 261 
 
 "Why, there is Andrew, if you want somebody 
 to talk to, and your brother in the evening," I 
 allowed, and I looked, or tried to look, as stupid 
 as Geoffrey is. 
 
 "Oh," she turned up her nose, "they are 
 men! Besides, my brother doesn't like me to 
 make a companion of a common laborer." 
 
 "I guess he is something besides a 'common 
 laborer,' " I said to myself; and if tramps have 
 other trades than wood-cutting, I am going to 
 find out what his is. To Mrs. Makart I said: 
 
 "Well, then, we won't begin lessons; but I do 
 want to hear you play just a little piece, please." 
 
 "I have forgotten everything I knew," she 
 said, but she took her seat at the piano, and 
 struck a few chords. "These keys are very 
 stiff." 
 
 To me the fingers seemed a good deal stiffer 
 than the keys, but I said: 
 
 "It is an old piano, but Miss Warrington 
 thought it would do very well for me to prac- 
 tice on." 
 
 She struck a few more chords, then began to 
 play what sounded more like an exercise in the 
 lesson-book than a regular tune; and the longer 
 she played, the more certain I became that she 
 did not know as much about notes as I did. She 
 must have seen what was in my mind, for when 
 she stopped playing and turned toward me, she 
 said:
 
 262 SANDPEEP 
 
 "I know you must be* laughing at me for 
 playing a simple thing like that; but I told you 
 I had forgotten everything. It will come back to 
 me, I dare say, after I have practiced a few 
 times. Now," and she got up from the piano- 
 stool, "let me hear how much you have learned 
 by yourself." 
 
 I sat down, and played one of the easy little 
 pieces Miss Warrington gave me. I didn't even 
 take the trouble to get the notes out, for I know 
 the piece by heart, and I played it, as the Elder 
 would say, "with the sperit 'n' the understandin' 
 also." When I swung around after I had finished, 
 Mrs. Makart was looking at me in such a strange 
 way; I could not tell if she was surprised, or 
 angry, or both. 
 
 "I thought you told my brother you did not 
 know anything about music," she said sharply. 
 
 "I told him I didn't know anything about the 
 piano," I answered. "I don't know much about 
 any instrument except the parlor organ, and I 
 have taken only a few lessons on that; but it 
 wasn't hard to pick out the few little pieces Miss 
 Warrington gave me. What I want to learn 
 from you is a little more about the notes." 
 
 She stared out of the window for several min- 
 utes as if she were looking at something among 
 the tree-tops. 
 
 "What must you think of me?" she ex- 
 claimed, turning suddenly toward me. "What
 
 SANDPEEP 263 
 
 must you think of me? When my brother told 
 me you wanted to learn to play, I thought, of 
 course, you were only a beginner, and I knew I 
 could teach you the scales and easy exercises. 
 Oh, what must you think of me?" she said again, 
 and she looked as if she were going to cry. 
 
 "Never mind," I said kindly. "You are not 
 to blame for thinking I couldn't play anything. 
 There! don't look distressed. I don't mind it in 
 the least that you can't play anything but scales 
 and easy exercises; and if you like, I'll teach 
 you what I know. It is very easy for a person 
 who loves music as I do. Why," I went on, an 
 idea coming into my head, "when I was a little 
 girl, I used to keep a waxed thread stretched 
 across the window-sill for the wind to play on; 
 and once, when a gentleman, who stopped 
 at our house one stormy night, gave me some 
 money, I spent all of it on fiddlestrings for my 
 wind-harp. There was a beautiful young lady 
 with the gentleman; she gave me this pretty 
 ring." 
 
 I kept my eyes on her face, but she never 
 gave a sign that she knew what and whom I 
 was talking about. I waited a minute, think- 
 ing she would certainly tell me she knew them, 
 and remembered the ring; but she didn't; just 
 stared at the tree-tops again, as if there wasn't 
 another person but herself in the room. 
 
 "I must see what has become of Geoffrey," I
 
 264 SANDPEEP 
 
 said at last and started to leave the room; but 
 she caught my arm. 
 
 "Wait, don't call him just yet," she said, in 
 quite a different voice from the snappy way she 
 had spoken before. "I want to tell you some- 
 thing. Oh, Miss Brenson!" -taking my hand 
 between hers, and holding it tight "please be 
 my friend! I need a friend more than any other 
 woman in this wide world. Help me help 
 me for the love of the Blessed Virgin!" 
 
 "How can I help you? What can I do?" I 
 asked, greatly surprised. 
 
 She looked at me for a minute, then suddenly 
 let go my hand, tore the veil and the gray wig 
 from her head, the blue specs from her eyes, and 
 flung them all on my bed. If I had not seen her 
 without them before, I should certainly have been 
 very much surprised; but as I had, I could only 
 make believe. 
 
 "Why, Mrs. Makart!" I exclaimed, "what in 
 the world do you wear those things for, when 
 you are so pretty without them ? They make you 
 look like an old woman." 
 
 "That is why I wear them, the hateful things! 
 to make me old and hideous, so that no one will 
 know me. But I am tired of this masquerading. 
 I must be my true self to you, who are so good 
 and kind. You will be my friend, I know; for 
 you have warm blood in your body, not ice-water 
 like these aristocrats, who have no feeling. You
 
 SANDPEEP 265 
 
 are one of us " "Indeed I'm not," I said to 
 myself: "I am no dancing- woman. I don't kick 
 my heels high as my head!" -"You belong to 
 the poor, the honest people, who will rule the 
 world some day! When that day comes, we 
 shall know how to make the rich pay up for all 
 the terrible things they have made us suffer." 
 
 I was going to say that the rich folks had never 
 made me, or anybody I was acquainted with, 
 suffer, when she began again; and she talked so 
 fast I could hardly understand her. 
 
 " I will tell you everything then you will help 
 me. I was wrong and foolish to deceive you, to 
 pretend 7 could teach you anything I, who am 
 ignorant, and you, who know so much! Why, 
 I can't even teach you my own language prop- 
 erly my dear, dear French, which they want 
 my boy to forget! I never went to school; I 
 learned to read only after I was thirteen years 
 old while I was in the convent hospital from 
 a fall, which everybody believed would cripple 
 me for life. Then the good sisters taught me to 
 read, and when I got well enough to leave my 
 cot, they let me amuse myself practicing scales on 
 the piano. Oh, dear Miss Brenson, you are like 
 the good, kind sisters in the convent, and I can't 
 say how ashamed and sorry I am for having 
 deceived you. I made myself an ugly old woman 
 so I might be near my boy my boy, do you 
 understand ? He is mine mine ! " beating her
 
 266 SANDPEEP 
 
 clenched right hand on the palm of her left 
 "and I am his mother his own mother! For 
 two long terrible nights I did not close my eyes, 
 because I believed they had taken my boy away 
 from me again. Oh, blessed Mary! how I suf- 
 fered ! I can't endure it any longer. I can't! I 
 can't! Miss Brenson" she caught my hand, 
 and crushed it against her breast "don't let 
 them take my precious darling away from me 
 again " 
 
 "But," I interrupted, and I didn't pity her half 
 as much as I would if Miss Helmsley hadn't 
 told me about the dancing- woman, "how can I 
 hinder it?" 
 
 "You can speak for me to Miss Warrington; 
 she trusts you; she will do what you ask; she 
 will give me a place in her household, if you ask 
 for it. I must be near my child, or I shall go 
 mad, or die!" 
 
 "But suppose Geoffrey should go to Africa with 
 his father?" I began, but she interrupted me. 
 
 "He shall not go anywhere again, where I 
 cannot go with him. No one shall take my little 
 Gervase away from me again. Yes, Gervase, 
 and not Geoffrey, is my boy's name; he is called 
 after my brother, instead of Mr. Warrington's 
 cousin the beautiful widow's husband." 
 
 "I should have thought you would have called 
 him after his father," I allowed. 
 
 " His father ? " looking at me in a strange way.
 
 SANDPEEP 267 
 
 "Oh," her face clearing, "I do not like his 
 father's name. I always liked 'Geoffrey,' and I 
 gave the name to my boy because I thought it 
 would please Mr. Warrington. But you have 
 not said you would help me. Maybe you don't 
 believe I am the boy's mother? I am, I swear 
 it by all the saints in heaven! And before I 
 will let him be taken away from me again, I 
 will" 
 
 She stopped suddenly and covered her face 
 with her hands. I watched her cry for a minute 
 before I said: "If you are really and truly the 
 boy's mother, then you must be Mr. Warring- 
 ton's wife?" 
 
 She took her hands from her face and asked, 
 almost fiercely: 
 
 "Didn't you hear me swear that I am the boy's 
 mother?" 
 
 "Then you have a right to a place in this 
 house your husband's house," I said. 
 
 "Yes yes, but can't you understand? Don't 
 you know that not every woman lives with her 
 husband? Why, if Mr. Warrington were to find 
 out that I am here, he would take the boy away, 
 where I could not find him again, perhaps. I 
 promised oh, dear God, forgive me for that 
 promise ! when I gave him up that I would 
 not try to see him until he was a grown man, 
 when he would have forgotten me! But, after 
 he was gone, I found that I might as well try to
 
 268 SANDPEEP 
 
 live with my heart torn out. I had to follow him. 
 I had to break my promise, or go mad!" She 
 shook all over. 
 
 "You ought not to have given him up," I 
 allowed. 
 
 "No, and I would not have done it, but my 
 brother persuaded me, and Mr. Warrington of- 
 fered us so much money, enough to keep us in 
 luxury for the rest of our days. I thought I 
 could get used to doing without my baby, but it 
 was the torture of hell! Oh, Miss Brenson, help 
 me get me a place here ; I will do anything 
 I must be near my boy." 
 
 "Now that I know you are Geoffrey's mother, 
 and Mr. Warrington's wife," I answered, "I 
 don't think I ought to ask Miss Warrington to 
 give you a chance. I could not bear to deceive 
 her" 
 
 "But you would not be deceiving her," she 
 interrupted, quickly. "7 would be the one, and 
 I would do anything anything, to be near my 
 child. Only get me the place, and no one shall 
 ever find out who I am." 
 
 After thinking for a minute, I asked her if 
 Malston was really her brother. 
 
 "He is really my brother." 
 
 "And Andrew is he your brother, too?" 
 
 "He and Robley, whose real name is Gervase, 
 are brothers, of course." 
 
 "Do you know that Andrew tried to run away
 
 SANDPEEP 269 
 
 with Geoffrey, before you came to live at the 
 cottage?" 
 
 "Yes, I know it, and I think he did wrong; 
 but he wanted to please me. I was dying to 
 see my boy, and Andrew could not bear to see 
 me suffer. He would have brought the boy 
 back." 
 
 I had my own ideas about that, but I did not 
 tell her what they were. I said: "Did he tell you 
 that he pointed a pistol at me when I hindered 
 him from taking Geoffrey?" 
 
 "Yes," a faint smile showing on her lips 
 "and he told me, too, that you snatched it out of 
 his hand, at the risk of being killed! Though he 
 wouldn't hurt a fly when he is himself, he is a 
 perfect demon when he is angry; and he cer- 
 tainly would have shot you, if you hadn't. He is 
 glad enough now that you did; and says you are 
 the very bravest, as well as the most beautiful 
 young lady he ever saw." 
 
 "I'm much obliged to him, I'm sure," I an- 
 swered, flustered by the compliment, "and you 
 may tell him I am as glad as he is that he didn't 
 shoot me." Then I added: "I believe if he had 
 come to the Lodge and asked Mr. Warrington to 
 let Geoffrey go to see you, instead of trying to 
 run away with him, Mr. Warrington would have 
 consented " 
 
 "I don't!" she interrupted, decidedly ; N " and 
 you wouldn't, if you had heard how Mr. War-
 
 270 SANDPEEP 
 
 rington talked when we made the agreement 
 about the boy." 
 
 "I would not have believed that Mr. Warring- 
 ton could be so cruel," I allowed after a second. 
 
 "The world his world, wouldn't call what 
 he did for my boy 'cruel,' and in a way it isn't; 
 he is very kind to give his money to the dear 
 child, who will be very, very rich, when Mr. 
 Warrington dies." 
 
 "That is the law, and not Mr. Warrington' s 
 kindness," I told her. "A child has a right to 
 what belongs to its father." 
 
 "There are such things as wills, Miss Bren- 
 son," she answered, smiling. "Mr. Warrington 
 can will everything he owns to anybody he 
 chooses; besides, even if he should not want to 
 will it away from Geoffrey, the dear child might 
 starve long before the law would give him what 
 you say will be his by right. Mr. Warrington is 
 strong and healthy, and may live many years 
 if nothing happens!" 
 
 "I hope and pray nothing may happen to 
 him," I said heartily. 
 
 "I hope so, too," she agreed, then went on to 
 say: "If I had it to do over again, I would 
 starve ten times over rather than give up my 
 boy on the same terms! No, not for all the 
 money in the world would I agree to live where 
 I could not see him every day." 
 
 "If I were you," I said to her, "I should go
 
 SANDPEEP 271 
 
 to Mr. Warrington without the wig and blue 
 specs and tell him you rue your bargain, and 
 want your child back." 
 
 "Ah, Miss Brenson, you are indeed ignorant of 
 the ways of the world! Don't you know that the 
 law binds one to keep one's word? And because 
 I have bound myself, I shall go mad, or die, if 
 you refuse to help me. My boy needs me; no 
 one understands him, no one knows how to man- 
 age him, as I do. You call him dull, stupid; 
 but to me he is the brightest, sweetest, dearest 
 child in this whole wide world! Oh, dear Miss 
 BrensOn! see, I kneel to you as to the Blessed 
 Virgin." 
 
 Before I could hinder her, she was on her 
 knees at my feet, and holding up her clasped 
 hands, as if she were praying to me! It was 
 wicked ! 
 
 "Good gracious!" I exclaimed, hardly knowing 
 what to do, I was so put out with her. "Get 
 up, for goodness' sake! somebody might come in! 
 I'll do what I can I will speak to Miss War- 
 rington only get up!" 
 
 "But you will not let her suspect who I am?" 
 she said, getting up. "Remember I have trusted 
 you with my secret with my life ! Yes, my 
 life is in your hands now," she repeated solemnly, 
 "and yours, too, would be in danger, if Andrew 
 should find out that I had told you our secret. 
 He would kill us both, he is so terrible when he
 
 272 SANDPEEP 
 
 is angry! But you will not betray me, I know! 
 and you need not be afraid that anyone will find 
 out who I am. Not even my child shall know 
 that I an his mother. No one shall ever sus- 
 pect that I am not a gray-haired, half -blind old 
 woman. The only there comes the boy " 
 she interrupted herself to say, and she caught up 
 the wig and specs. "He must not see me with- 
 out these hateful things, for he would know his 
 petite maman in a minute, though you have tried 
 to make him forget her!" 
 
 She had hardly got them on, when Geoffrey 
 I shall keep on calling him that, and his 
 mother Mrs. Makart, even to my secret-keeping 
 book dashed into the room, swinging the 
 "mermaid" picture in his hand. 
 
 "See! See!" he exclaimed. "See what I find 
 in hims room a little girl, like me!" 
 
 I took it from him, and held it toward Mrs. 
 Makart. " Isn't it pretty ? " I asked, and I watched 
 her closely for a sign that she recognized the little 
 Sandpeep. 'Doesn't it look exactly like a really 
 little girl, standing in really water?" 
 
 "Yes; and her hair and eyes are exactly like 
 yours; indeed, she looks like you. I have never 
 seen hair the color of yours, only on the stage, 
 Miss Brenson, and then it wasn't natural. Ac- 
 tresses, you know, often wear false hair." She 
 smiled, and laid her finger against the strip of 
 gray wig above her forehead.
 
 SANDPEEP 273 
 
 I don't think the actresses on the stage can 
 "act" any better than she can. To look at her, 
 nobody would have imagined that she had ever 
 laid eyes on the little Sandpeep before; there 
 wasn't the least sign that she remembered. 
 
 " Don't the sky, and the ocean, and those gulls 
 flying over the waves, look natural?" I tried 
 again. 
 
 "Yes, though I don't know much about the 
 seashore. I have crossed the ocean, but I never 
 looked at it from the shore until I came here. I 
 should like this picture better if the pretty little 
 girl were standing among flowers and grass. I 
 don't like the sea." 
 
 No use fishing in shallow water! I just 
 couldn't get a bite! I asked her to excuse me a 
 minute, and took the picture down to Mr. War- 
 rington's room. When I came back, Geoffrey 
 was sitting on his mother's lap, his arms around 
 her neck, his head on her breast, and she was 
 singing to him, and rocking as if he were 
 a baby, and she was trying to sing him to 
 sleep. 
 
 "You must not make fun of him," she said, 
 when she saw me smile. "Though he is such a 
 big boy, he is only a baby, after all!" 
 
 She kissed him, then put him down, saying: 
 
 "I must go back to the cottage now. Andrew 
 will be home and wonder what has become of 
 me. Dear Miss Brenson, I can't tell you how
 
 274 SANDPEEP 
 
 much better I feel, now that I know you will help 
 me, and that I need not deceive you any more. 
 You will come to see me as usual, even if I can't 
 teach you anything, won't you?" 
 
 "Yes, if nothing hinders," I answered. 
 
 "Well, the hope of seeing you will help me to 
 wait with patience." 
 
 Geoffrey and I went down to the door with 
 her. He chose to take her hand, instead of mine, 
 which pleased her very much. 
 
 "The child-heart knows!" she whispered. 
 
 At the door she asked if there wasn't a nearer 
 way to the cottage than by the avenue and the 
 lane. 
 
 "There's an old path through the Lodge 
 grounds, but unless you know it, you wouldn't 
 be likely to find it. Besides, there's a high fence 
 to climb." 
 
 "I am pretty good at climbing," she allowed, 
 adding with a smile: "I believe I could climb 
 to the balcony over that window." 
 
 "I dare say you could, if you are used to 
 climbing," I answered. "I saw one of the 
 maids jump down from it once, and she didn't 
 hurt herself, either. But I guess you'd better 
 go by the avenue and the lane. Only we long- 
 shore folks are good at finding hidden paths." 
 
 "Have you lived around here long?" 
 
 "All my life; so you may well think me igno- 
 rant of the other end of the world! Wouldn't
 
 SANDPEEP 275 
 
 you like to go home with me some day, and see 
 how we Cove folks live?" 
 
 "Why, yes; do you live far from here?" 
 
 "Only a few miles; I will carry you to the 
 Cove in Dr. Parke's sloop." 
 
 "Do you know how to manage a boat?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed; I was brought up to know all 
 about boats. You needn't be afraid to trust me." 
 
 "I am not afraid to trust you as I think I 
 have proved to you," she answered, looking at 
 me in a way I understood. 
 
 "Very well, then we will go to see my aunt 
 to-morrow, if there's a good sailing breeze." 
 
 "And take the boy with us?" she asked. 
 
 "I don't believe Mr. Warrington will let him 
 go. He is so very particular about him," I 
 answered. 
 
 "For that, I thank him from my heart!" she 
 said, shaking my hand, and giving it a good 
 squeeze. 
 
 I stood in the doorway, looking after her and 
 thinking. Maybe she has really forgotten, after 
 all! There's so much to see and hear out in 
 the other world, that the folks who live there 
 are not likely to store away in their mind-closets 
 every little thing that happens, as we do here. I 
 have had so little to store away, that nothing 
 has had to be crowded into the forget-corner. 
 I can always find just what I want, without 
 rummaging for it!
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 MR. WARRINGTON was busy writing let- 
 ters in the library, the morning after 
 Mrs. Makart told me her secret; and 
 when I asked if I might disturb him for a min- 
 ute, he laid his pen on the rack, though it was 
 almost time to send the mail to the Headlands, 
 leaned back in his chair and said very pleasantly: 
 
 " Certainly; what have you to tell me?" 
 
 "Reuben Wasgott would like to know if you 
 want him to-day." 
 
 "Who is Reuben Wasgott?" 
 
 "He is the gentleman who has taken Zemro 
 Haskell's place to sail the sloop for you." 
 
 "Ah, true; I had forgotten the gentleman's 
 name. No I shall not want him to-day." He 
 leaned forward, took up the pen and dipped it 
 into the ink, but before he began to write, I 
 asked if I might have the loan of the sloop for 
 a few hours. 
 
 "Certainly; didn't Dr. Parke leave the boat 
 in your care?" 
 
 "I am to take charge of her after you have all 
 gone away for good, sir; until then I have no 
 right to use her without your permission." 
 
 "You are very punctilious!" he allowed, smiling 
 
 276
 
 SANDPEEP 277 
 
 at me. "As I don't intend to sail to-day, Wasgott 
 may take his orders from you." 
 
 "But I don't want him to sail the sloop for me, 
 sir," I objected. 
 
 "I think you had better let him do so." 
 
 He began to write as if the matter was settled, 
 but I made bold to say: 
 
 "If I let Reuben sail the sloop, please may I 
 take Geoffrey along with me? I will take good 
 care of him, sir." 
 
 "I don't doubt that," he answered, without 
 looking up; "but I doubt if the lad will consent 
 to go with you, he gets so seasick Of course 
 you may take him if he will go ! " 
 
 I thanked him, and came up to the school- 
 room, where Geoffrey was waiting for me. After 
 he had said his lesson real well for him I 
 told him we were going out in the "wing-boat," 
 as he calls the sloop. 
 
 "No no; I will not go in the wing-boat," he 
 said, decidedly. "Hims hurts me here!" laying 
 one hand against his stomach, and the other 
 against his forehead. "I will go in the push- 
 boat; I will push him, so," moving his arms as 
 if he were rowing. Nothing I could say would 
 make him change his mind, and I was thinking 
 I should have to give up going to the Cove, when 
 Janet came to dress him for a drive with his 
 aunts. I was sorry on his mother's account, and 
 half expected, when I went down to the shore,
 
 278 SANDPEEP 
 
 where I had sent her word by Malston to meet 
 me, that she would refuse to go, too. But, 
 though she looked disappointed when I told her, 
 she let me help her into the dory without a word. 
 I don't believe she and Reuben had spoken to 
 each other while they were waiting for me; for 
 when I joined them, she was sitting on a drift- 
 log, up among the alders, and he was standing 
 close to the water, heaving little rocks into it. I 
 guess if he could have known what a handsome 
 young lady was hidden under the gray wig and 
 blue specs, there would be considerably more 
 rocks on the shore than there are now! Reuben 
 isn't one of the bashful kind. 
 
 The breeze was splendid for sailing, and the 
 Keren skimmed over the water like a duck. That 
 isn't saying much for the good old sloop, for 
 she can go a good deal faster than a duck can 
 swim. 
 
 "Isn't this fine?" I said. 
 
 "Very, but I think I should be sick if the 
 water were rougher. I am standing it better 
 than I expected. I was never in a sailboat 
 before." 
 
 "You were never in a sailboat before?" I 
 repeated, and looked at her in a way that made 
 her say quickly: 
 
 "I mean a small boat like this. Of course, I 
 have been in large steamships a number of 
 times."
 
 SANDPEEP 279 
 
 "But," I insisted, "try to remember; haven't 
 you been in this in a boat like this before ? 
 long ago, maybe?" 
 
 "No," she answered, very positively, "I have 
 never been in a boat like this before." 
 
 I was so vexed with her I could have shaken 
 her, and I did not speak again until we sailed 
 into Bunker's Cove; then I asked her how she 
 liked that part of the shore. 
 
 "Better than where it is so rocky, like the 
 Lodge property," she answered. "Is this where 
 you live?" 
 
 I told her it was. 
 
 "It looks so peaceful and quiet here," she 
 allowed, "as if nothing sinful and wicked ever 
 happened. I understand now why you are so 
 good and innocent." 
 
 "I think Bunker's Cove a very sightly place, 
 too," I said, "but you make a mistake when you 
 call me ' good ' ; our preacher often tells me I am 
 very sinful." 
 
 "You sinful? You, who have never deceived 
 anyone never wished harm to anyone ? What 
 would he say about me, I wonder? But," she 
 lowered her voice, for which there was no need, 
 for Reuben was humming a hymn tune, and 
 beating time with the end of the painter on the 
 thwart "I want you to believe that I don't 
 wish harm to anyone now, not since you prom- 
 ised to help me. I am going to do everything I
 
 28o SANDPEEP 
 
 can to keep harm from coming to anyone. 
 You look puzzled. You must not ask me to 
 explain; I can't I dare not. If you could 
 exchange places with me for only a minute, you 
 would understand and pity me " she stopped 
 suddenly and flung the end of the thick veil 
 over her face, but not before I had seen two 
 big tears roll from under the blue specs. 
 
 "If I could change places with you for good 
 and all, I know what I should do," I said. 
 
 "What would you do?" came from behind the 
 veil. 
 
 "I should go straight to Mr. Warrington, and 
 ask him to make up, be good friends again, you 
 know! He certainly must have liked you once 
 well enough to marry you ; and he might 
 grow to like you again, if you would do what you 
 could to make him happy, and make him stop 
 wanting to get a divorce " 
 
 "Does he think of getting a divorce?" she 
 interrupted. 
 
 "I don't know," I answered, "but he will have 
 to get one before he can marry again. No one 
 would blame him, I'm sure, for he is still quite a 
 young man, and though he isn't what I call 
 handsome, I don't believe he'd have any trouble 
 getting a wife to suit him. Just think," I went 
 on, as she made no reply, "how nice it would 
 be for your little son. Take my advice, Mrs. 
 Makart; call yourself by your right name, and
 
 SANDPEEP 281 
 
 ask Mr. Warrington to make up, and don't put 
 it off too long, either!" 
 
 1 'Then you do really believe he will get a di- 
 vorce?" she said again; but instead of answering 
 her question, I asked one. 
 
 "Hasn't your brother told you what the serv- 
 ants at the Lodge say about Mr. Warrington and 
 his cousin's beautiful widow?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "They think he is a widower; and, knowing 
 that he was very much in love with her before 
 she married his cousin, they say he is going to 
 make her Geoffrey's stepmother, which he can 
 do, you know, if he gets a divorce " 
 
 "Hard-a-lee!" 
 
 Reuben's warning made us bend forward sud- 
 denly to let the boom swing over our heads; 
 and as we were near the sloop's anchorage, 
 nothing more was said about the divorce. But 
 I believe I gave Mrs. Makart something to 
 think over. 
 
 "This is truly a beautiful spot!" she re- 
 marked, when we stopped on the shore to look 
 around. "How green the grass is! just like 
 Ireland! Is that your home?" pointing toward 
 Zemro's house. 
 
 "No; that is where I live," showing her ours; 
 "and that is my aunt in the garden." 
 
 "Your father and mother live there, too, of 
 course?"
 
 282 SANDPEEP 
 
 "They are in the better land," I answered 
 sadly, as was proper. "I have no one but aunt." 
 
 Aunt met us at the gate, surprised and pleased. 
 
 "Why, Sandpeep!" she exclaimed, and peered 
 at Mrs. Makart from under the hand shading 
 her eyes. "What hes fetched you home to-day? 
 Hain't sick, be you?" 
 
 "No; I have brought a lady to call," I an- 
 swered, and introduced her and Mrs. Makart. 
 
 Aunt bowed nobody could make her be- 
 lieve bowing wasn't manners any more! and 
 said: "Pleased to make your acquaintance, 
 ma'am. Be you stoppin' to neighbor Warrin'- 
 ton's, too?" 
 
 "Mrs. Makart," I explained, "lives in the 
 cottage in the woods, near the Lodge. She is 
 Mr. Malston's sister." 
 
 "Jes' so, 'n' a pleasant-spoken gentleman he 
 is, ma'am. Be your eyes sore?" she asked then, 
 sympathetically. 
 
 "They are weak," Mrs. Makart answered, and 
 I thought better of her when I saw that her 
 cheeks got pink at the story-telling. 
 
 "Eyebright tea is good fur sore eyes," aunt 
 allowed. "My gran'ma'am allus used it fur 
 her'n; though Peleg he was my brother 'n' 
 Sandpeep' s father said the gold earrings he 
 wore helped his'n more 'n the eyebright tea. 
 You might try both, ma'am, 'n' ef one won't 
 help you, t'other might."
 
 SANDPEEP 283 
 
 Mrs. Makart thanked her, and after aunt had 
 asked me if Reuben wasn't coming up to the 
 house, and I had told her he had gone home, 
 because I wanted to sail the sloop back to the 
 Lodge myself, we went into the kitchen, and had 
 a little luncheon of fresh cookies and milk. Aunt 
 kept looking at Mrs. Makart all the time we were 
 eating, and when we got up to go, she said: 
 
 " 'Pears 'sef I hed seen you afore, too, ma'am. 
 Mebbe you hev been 'round here afore, too, like 
 neighbor Warrin'ton?" 
 
 "No, I have never been here before." This 
 time Mrs. Makart's cheeks didn't get pink! 
 "But I hope you will let me come to see you 
 again, some time?" 
 
 Aunt told her she would be pleased; then, as I 
 was afraid the wind might die out, we hurried 
 down to the shore. I didn't want to go back to 
 the Lodge on an "ash breeze." 
 
 After we had sailed some distance, Mrs. 
 Makart said: "I believe you know how to man- 
 age this boat as well as that young man. Did it 
 take you long to learn?" 
 
 "I can't remember when I didn't know all 
 about the sloop," I. answered, smiling. "Manag- 
 ing her comes as natural as washing dishes, and I 
 like it lots better! I used to go fishing with my 
 father when I wasn't much more than a baby." 
 
 "You are to be pitied for having no mother," 
 she allowed, after a minute.
 
 284 SANDPEEP 
 
 "I don't agree with you," I answered. " Aunt 
 is the same to me as a mother " 
 
 "Oh, no, Miss Brenson," she interrupted; 
 "no aunt no one can be the same as a 
 mother." 
 
 "Well," after I had shifted the boom, "as I 
 never knew my mother, aunt seems to me all 
 that a mother could be." 
 
 Mrs. Makart shook her head, but I didn't 
 care to "argufy." After a few minutes she said 
 suddenly, as if she had been turning it over in 
 her mind: 
 
 "If Mr. Warrington should get a divorce and 
 marry the beautiful widow, and there should be 
 children born to them, my boy would have to 
 share the property with them, I suppose?" 
 
 "Why, of course! That would be only right," 
 I answered. 
 
 "And there might be several children" she 
 said it more as if she was talking to herself than 
 to me "No," after thinking a minute 
 "he must not be allowed to get the divorce. I 
 have risked too much to have my boy lose the 
 fortune." 
 
 "I don't see how you are going to hinder it," I 
 said. "You had better take my advice, and 
 make up with him, and try to make him happy 
 yourself, instead of leaving it for a second wife 
 to do." 
 
 "You seem very anxious to have Mr. Warring-
 
 SANDPEEP 285 
 
 ton happy," she said, looking at me in a way 
 I did not understand; "you almost make me 
 believe you care a good deal about him." 
 
 "And so I do," I answered heartily. "I like 
 him very much. He is very kind to me." 
 
 "Do you know anything about his past life?" 
 she asked, after she had thought for several 
 minutes. 
 
 "Not much," I answered carelessly, though I 
 kept a close watch on her out of the corner of 
 my eye. "I saw him only once, before he came 
 here this summer. It was a long, long time ago. 
 Don't you remember I told you yesterday about 
 a gentleman who gave me some money, and that 
 I had bought fiddlestrings with it for my wind- 
 harp ? Well, Mr. Warrington was the gentleman. 
 He, and the young lady who gave me this ring, 
 stopped at our house all night, because it stormed 
 too bad for them to go to the Headlands; and 
 the next morning father carried them there in 
 this very sloop." 
 
 Maybe if more of her face had been uncovered, 
 I might have seen some sign that she knew what 
 I was talking about; but I couldn't tell whether 
 she knew or not, and her voice didn't tell me, 
 either, when she asked how long ago it was 
 that Mr. Warrington and the young lady had 
 been at our house. 
 
 "About a dozen years, I should think," I 
 answered, then added: "Maybe you know who
 
 286 SANDPEEP 
 
 the young lady was? You were good friends 
 with Mr. Warrington then." 
 
 "No, I don't know," she answered, and no red 
 came into her cheeks at this big story. "He had 
 a great many friends I was not acquainted with." 
 
 She wasn't looking at me, so I had a good 
 chance to watch her face, when I said: "Tell 
 me about your wedding. You had a lot of 
 flowers, and good things to eat, I dare say?" 
 
 "No, there were no flowers, no feast " 
 
 "What?" I interrupted, "not even a single 
 little bunch of posies for good luck?" 
 
 "Oh, yes; there were some artificial flowers 
 on the altar " 
 
 "The altar?" I interrupted a second time, 
 greatly puzzled. I had never heard that 'Squire 
 Willetts used an altar with artificial flowers on it, 
 when he married folks. 
 
 "Yes, the altar in the church, of course. Why 
 do you look at me in that strange way?" She 
 had turned her blue specs suddenly toward me, 
 and must have seen what I thought of her latest 
 whopper. 
 
 "Please excuse me," I said, greatly vexed with 
 myself. Not for the world would I have her sus- 
 pect me. I want her to keep on thinking me 
 stupid and innocent until Dr. Parke gets back. 
 "I was thinking of something else; I know it 
 was very rude." 
 
 "Dear Miss Brenson, you could not be rude
 
 SANDPEEP 287 
 
 if you tried," she said, and laid her hand on 
 mine for a second. "You are too kind-hearted. 
 That is why I trust you and ask you to help 
 me. When will you speak for me to Miss 
 Warrington?" 
 
 I smiled in a joking way: "I thought I would 
 try first to coax you to make up with your 
 husband - 
 
 "That is impossible quite impossible," she 
 interrupted decidedly. "Even if I were willing 
 to 'make up,' as you call it, I know Mr. War- 
 rington would refuse; he dislikes me too much 
 now. No, in his house I can be only governess 
 to my boy, or a servant." 
 
 "All right," I said, "if you will not take my 
 advice", I will ask Miss Warrington to give you a 
 chance." 
 
 She thanked me and leaned forward to kiss my 
 hand resting on the tiller. We went ashore at 
 the Lodge soon afterward. Mr. Warrington was 
 smoking a cigar in front of the house. "Is that 
 your aunt, Miss Brenson?" he asked, when I was 
 going toward the side entrance. 
 
 I guess if he knew how lame aunt's "rheuma- 
 tiz in her j'ints" makes her, he would not have 
 asked if the woman going down the avenue like 
 a ship in full sail before half a gale of wind, 
 were she. 
 
 "No, sir; it is Malston's sister. She was out 
 in the sloop with me," I answered, wondering
 
 288 SANDPEEP 
 
 what he would have done if I had told him that 
 it was his wife. 
 
 "Did the skipper come ashore with you?" he 
 asked as I was moving away. 
 
 "Reuben didn't come back with me, sir." 
 
 "I don't think it is quite safe for you to sail 
 the Keren without some one to assist you," he al- 
 lowed ; " suppose a sudden squall should come up ? " 
 
 "I guess I should know what to do, sir," I 
 answered, and smiled. "You need not be afraid 
 anything will happen to the sloop, when 
 
 "the sloop!" It would not take a "Bible- 
 anarian, " as aunt says, to know that the word 
 Mr. Warrington used before "the sloop," was 
 a swear word. "I shouldn't care if she went 
 to the bottom! and I don't believe Dr. *Parke 
 would, either. But we should care, very much, 
 if Geoffrey's governess went down with her." 
 
 He said that so kindly, that I made bold 
 to answer jokingly: "If she should go down 
 with the sloop, sir, you could get the ugly old 
 governess." 
 
 He laughed heartily, and I ran into the house, 
 saying to myself: "Oh, what a very, very fool- 
 ish woman you are, Mrs. Makart!" The better 
 acquainted I get with Mr. Warrington, the better 
 I like him. If Zemro were like him I can tell 
 this to my dear book and aunt were to come 
 sparking me for him, it wouldn't be for nothing, 
 that's all!
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 GEOFFREY and his aunts had not come 
 back, and were not expected until nearly 
 dinner-time, Janet told me, so I thought 
 I would go to the cottage for my French lesson- 
 book, instead of practicing on the piano, which 
 I was afraid might annoy Mr. Warrington. 
 
 I went by the old path across the grounds, the 
 one I told Mrs. Makart about, thinking to get to 
 the cottage and away again before she could 
 come by the lane. To climb the high fence was 
 no great task, though a nail tore a three-cornered 
 hole in my skirt which will take hours to darn, 
 and I was only a little way from the cottage 
 when I caught sight of Andrew through the 
 bushes. He was sitting on a rock at the side of 
 the lane, whittling like any Cove man. 
 
 I did not want him to see me, for I must say I 
 am scared of him, and was wondering how I 
 could get to the house without attracting his 
 attention, when Mrs. Makart came walking up 
 the lane. I made up my mind I would wait 
 until she and Andrew had gone into the house; 
 then I would follow, and get my book. 
 
 "Well, petite," Andrew said to her, "you were 
 gone a long time." 
 
 289
 
 2QO SANDPEEP 
 
 "Yes, but I could not come back any sooner," 
 she answered, and instead of going into the 
 house, she sat down on the rock beside him. 
 
 Though I was almost afraid to draw my 
 breath, I was so near to them, I made up my 
 mind to "eavesdrop" like Miss Helmsley. I 
 don't think it was mean to listen, for it is 
 only by finding out what the deceitful creatures 
 mean to do, that I can help Mr. Warrington; 
 and I would do anything to help him! 
 
 "Did you enjoy your sail with the governess, ma 
 petite?" Andrew asked, and pinched her cheek. 
 
 She hunched her shoulders and took off her 
 specs before she answered: "No, the boy did 
 not go with us; went to drive with his aunts!" 
 
 Why they both laughed when she said that, I 
 don't know, I'm sure. 
 
 "Did the wench say anything about getting a 
 place for you?" he asked, meaning me by "the 
 wench." 
 
 "She hasn't spoken to Miss Warrington yet, 
 but will soon. Do you know what she advises 
 me to do?" She put her arm around his neck 
 and leaned forward to look up into his face. 
 
 "Haven't an idea," he answered, and put both 
 his arms around her. 
 
 "Make up my quarrel with Warrington 
 take my rightful name and place in his house, 
 instead of trying to get into it as a governess, 
 or a servant!"
 
 SANDPEEP 291 
 
 I never heard anyone laugh so loud and so 
 long as they did. Then Andrew asked: 
 
 "What answer did you give the peace-maker?" 
 
 "Said it was quite impossible, that Warring- 
 ton disliked me too much. Andrew," - she was 
 very serious all at once; she pronounces An- 
 drew more as if it was spelled Andray, " War- 
 rington must not be allowed to begin divorce 
 proceedings. Think of what that would mean 
 for us for my boy!" 
 
 "Aha!" Andrew exclaimed, "at last you look 
 at the matter as I do! I knew you would, as 
 soon as you could understand that the boy was 
 in danger of losing the cash!" 
 
 "But is there no other way to hinder such a 
 danger than the one you propose?" 
 
 "None so sure, petite. Without the document, 
 that I tried my best to find that night, we could 
 not even prove a marriage. I'll warrant you, if I 
 had Gerry's chances, I'd know how to improve 
 them! I'd find that certificate if I had to throt- 
 tle the whole gang! Only Warrington, and the 
 person who performed the ceremony, know just 
 when, and where, it took place and, of course, 
 the witnesses, if there were any. We might 
 swear ourselves black in the face, we couldn't 
 prove anything without that paper. These law- 
 yers are foxes for ferreting after secrets, and 
 Warrington' s purse is long enough to keep them 
 on the chase until they have found what he
 
 292 SANDPEEP 
 
 wants. No, my dear Lina, there is no other 
 way so sure; 'dead men tell no tales'!" 
 
 "I can't bear to think of it," she said slowly, 
 "for he has been very kind to me " 
 
 "Damnably kind, hasn't he?" I don't be- 
 lieve writing swear words that other people have 
 said is sinful "Damnably kind, indeed! Forced 
 you to agree not to lay eyes on your boy for fif- 
 teen years " 
 
 "Only twelve," she interrupted. 
 
 "Only twelve! and you nearly died for the 
 sight of him before half that many months had 
 passed!" 
 
 "Yes, I know! I see now how foolish and 
 wrong I was to let him be taken away from me. 
 I simply cannot live without him!" and 
 she leaned her face against his breast. 
 
 "And you sha'n't try to," he said, smoothing 
 her head with his hand. "The sooner you and 
 Gerry stop your nonsensical objecting to my plan, 
 the better and safer for all of us." 
 
 "Well," she said, after a few seconds, "wait a 
 few days longer. Something may turn up, some- 
 thing not so dreadful. If he goes to Africa " 
 
 "If he goes to Africa," Andrew interrupted, 
 "I go, too!" 
 
 Though I could not see his face, I knew the 
 same look was in his eyes that was there when 
 he pointed the pistol at me. 
 
 "You? you go to Africa?" Mrs. Makart re-
 
 SANDPEEP 293 
 
 peated, and bent forward again to look into his 
 face. "What will you go to Africa for?" 
 
 "To shoot tigers," he answered, and smiled 
 at her. 
 
 "Don't joke, mon cher, I want the truth." 
 
 "Well, I have a little debt of my own to settle 
 with the gentleman; I owe him for this," laying 
 his finger on the scar on his cheek. "If he 
 hadn't thrown up his arm to prevent the blow 
 from my knife, the time he and I had the little 
 disagreement about the boy, and made it slash 
 me instead, there wouldn't be any need to hinder 
 divorce proceedings now! I want to pay back 
 the debt I owe him see?" 
 
 "You need not go so far away from me to do 
 that, sir," she pulled his moustache, which 
 doesn't come off like his beard. "I don't in- 
 tend to lose sight of you, ever again! Now, 
 promise that you won't do anything to War- 
 rington until I say you may? I may get the 
 governess's place, you know." 
 
 "I don't see how that will better matters." 
 
 "You shall have comfortable quarters near 
 enough for me and the boy to visit you every day 
 or so, and I may be able to find the certificate 
 when I am in the house. If I should, our way to 
 prevent a divorce will be clear, and you will not 
 have to commit a crime that might hang you. 
 Come, sir, I want your promise." 
 
 "I will promise this much," he answered, "I
 
 294 SANDPEEP 
 
 won't do anything but give him a beauty spot in 
 return for the one he gave me, until I find that 
 something more is necessary to save the boy's 
 fortune. Will that satisfy you, little maman?" 
 
 She answered that it would, and nothing more 
 was said for several seconds. Then Andrew 
 laughed suddenly and exclaimed: 
 
 "By my word, petite, I wish I could have seen 
 you when the wench played for you! Ha-ha! 
 Ha-ha! Do you intend to claim music-teaching 
 as one of your accomplishments, when you get to 
 be a governess?" 
 
 "Not likely! You must blame Gerry for get- 
 ting me into that scrape. He told me the girl 
 was a perfect ignoramus, almost an imbecile. 
 Such an idiot as I made of myself!" 
 
 After they had both laughed heartily, Andrew 
 said: 
 
 "Well, I am glad she is such an innocent. 
 You must manage to keep on her right side, 
 and you may learn from her what Gerry, with 
 all his wisdom, does not seem able to ferret 
 out" 
 
 "Oh, I'll keep on her right side, never fear!" 
 Mrs. Makart allowed. "She takes to flattery as 
 a kitten to milk! She is easily pumped; ' chil- 
 dren and fools,' you know." 
 
 One needs only to eavesdrop to find out what 
 folks really think. I sha'n't set up to be so smart 
 after this, though Mrs. Makart and Malston may
 
 SANDPEEP 295 
 
 find out I am not such an " imbecile" as they 
 think me! 
 
 "Are you sure the girl is as innocent as you 
 say?" Andrew asked. 
 
 "Yes; too innocent to hide what she thinks of 
 Warrington; she adores him." 
 
 I was so vexed that I felt like stepping out 
 and telling her it wasn't true; and maybe 1 
 would have done so, but Andrew asked her just 
 then if she really believed "the owl-eyed wench" 
 was in love with the "grand seignior." I have 
 found out that that is the way to spell the word, 
 which may be used to describe gentlemen like 
 Mr. Warrington, and not "senior," as I have it 
 down in my book somewhere. 
 
 "Yes," Mrs. Makart answered, "or I can't read 
 the signs! I don't believe, though, she knows 
 yet how much she thinks of him; but you would 
 not doubt it if you had heard her beg me to 
 make him so happy he would not want to be 
 divorced from me. Ha-ha-ha!" 
 
 And again they laughed so hard, I thought 
 they would fall off the rock. 
 
 "What you tell me," Andrew said, "proves 
 that we need to be on our guard; for when a 
 woman loves, she is a hawk for watchfulness. 
 How about Warrington? Does he reciprocate 
 the adoration?" 
 
 "Not he! His high mightiness will not be 
 likely to stoop so low a second time. 'A burnt
 
 296 SANDPEEP 
 
 child, 3 you know! The silly girl has seen so few 
 fine gentlemen that she is fascinated, like the 
 innocent moth that flutters around the candle." 
 
 "And her fate," Andrew allowed in a meaning 
 way, "will be that of the innocent moth, unless 
 some kind hand snuffs out the destroying flame! 
 In mercy to the girl, you ought to let me do it." 
 
 "Wait a little longer, mon cher; if there is no 
 talk of divorce, all will go well." 
 
 ' ' Wait wait wait ! " he growled . ' ' You 
 and Gerry will get yourselves and me into limbo 
 with your 'wait, wait.' But come, let's go get 
 something to eat; I am hungry as a bear." He 
 got up from the rock, lifting her up with him, 
 and keeping his arm around her as they walked 
 toward the cottage. 
 
 What a dreadful story-teller Mrs. Makart is! 
 And I must let her keep on saying such things 
 about me! I must not let her suspect that I 
 heard what she said must let her keep on 
 thinking me "innocent" and in love with Mr. 
 Warrington ! The idea ! 
 
 Well, if I found out that folks talk differently 
 behind my back, I found out something else, too : 
 that the certificate I did not think of much im- 
 portance is worth something, after all. Though 
 just what good it would do Mrs. Makart and her 
 brothers, if they got hold of it, I don't know. 
 But I am sure they won't get it! I will give it 
 to Dr. Parke, and tell him what I heard Mrs.
 
 SANDPEEP 297 
 
 Makart and Andrew say about it. As I looked 
 after the two deceitful creatures from behind the 
 bushes, I felt mad clean through, and full of 
 fight as a hooked sculpin. It didn't take long 
 for me to make up my mind what to do. 
 
 I made sure that she and her tramp were safe 
 inside the cottage; then I stepped into the lane, 
 ran fast as I could clip the short distance to the 
 door, which was open, and knocked, as if I were 
 in a great hurry. I pretended to be quite out of 
 breath when Mrs. Makart came into the room 
 from the kitchen, a slice of bread in her hand. 
 
 "Oh, my boy my boy! What has hap- 
 pened?" she cried, and got white as a sheet. 
 
 "Nothing he is all right," I answered, 
 and just wasn't I out of breath! I could hardly 
 speak! " I have just come for my book 
 I am in such a hurry." 
 
 "But come in come in, and rest a few min- 
 utes until you get your breath," she insisted. 
 
 I told her I hadn't time, and I could have 
 laughed in her face, I was so tickled at having 
 deceived her. I caught up the book from the 
 table, said "Please excuse me, but I can't stop a 
 minute," ran out of the house and down the 
 lane, until the turn hid me from, the cottage and 
 the two deceivers in it. Then I stopped running 
 and took my time getting back to the Lodge. 
 Acting and telling a story are not as hard as I 
 imagined.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 EN Miss Warrington told me, after 
 breakfast this morning, that Dr. Parke 
 and Mr. Fairboro were going to India, 
 instead of coming back to the Lodge, I felt as if 
 the bottom of the world had dropped out, and I 
 had nothing to hold on to. What was I to do? 
 
 "Are you troubling about anything?" Miss 
 Warrington asked. 
 
 "N no, thank you," I answered; of course I 
 couldn't tell her what troubled me. 
 
 "I hope you have not had any bad news from 
 your sailor friend?" she said again. 
 
 "Zemro Haskell? No, dear Miss Warrington, 
 I haven't. I am not worrying about him, for I 
 know he can take good care of himself." 
 
 "Something troubles you," she insisted, "but I 
 will not question you further. I am going to 
 North Haven to see Miss Helmsley after lunch- 
 eon, and I will take you and Geoffrey with me, 
 if you care to go." 
 
 I told her I should like very much to go with 
 her; then came up to the schoolroom, telling 
 myself that I should have to be very careful not 
 to let her see again that I was worried; she has 
 such sharp eyes! If I find that I can't keep on 
 
 298
 
 SANDPEEP 299 
 
 acting as well as I did yesterday and can't hinder 
 Andrew's plan by myself, I shall have to tell Mr. 
 Warrington. But I shall try first to get a chance 
 for Mrs. Makart and I will speak to Miss War- 
 rington about it this afternoon. 
 
 After lessons this morning, I left Geoffrey with 
 Janet, and hurried to the cottage to tell Mrs. 
 Makart she must not expect to see her boy that 
 afternoon, as we were going to drive with Miss 
 Warrington. 
 
 "But can't you come when you return?" she 
 asked, and looked ready to cry. 
 
 I said it would be too late then, and to comfort 
 her, added : " Try to get along without seeing him 
 for one day, and think what a good chance I shall 
 have to speak to Miss Warrington about you!" 
 
 "That will console me," she said, "and I will 
 pray to the Holy Mother that you may get me 
 the place. Did you meet Andrew in the lane?" 
 
 " I came by the path I told you about the other- 
 day." 
 
 " Over the high fence ? I have to laugh every 
 time I think of what you said about my climbing 
 over it. What if I were to tell you that it was me 
 you saw jump from the balcony that morning?" 
 
 "You?" 
 
 She laughed heartily at my astonishment and 
 said:
 
 300 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Yes, I! I had been in my boy's room " 
 
 "But, how did you know which was his 
 room?" I interrupted. 
 
 "My brother Malston told me." 
 
 "Sure enough! I wonder Bonny didn't bite 
 you." 
 
 "Bonhommie?" She laughed again. "It isn't 
 likely he would bite the woman who raised him 
 from a puppy!" 
 
 "The dog, too?" I said to myself. Well, I 
 guess a Yankee girl, determined to help her 
 friends, can match three foreigners and a dog! 
 
 "You will be sure to speak for me to-day?" 
 she said at the door. 
 
 "I certainly will," I answered. 
 
 "Heaven bless you, dear Miss Brenson! I 
 shall pray every day to the Holy Mother for 
 you." 
 
 If she knew what a strict Baptist had brought 
 me up she wouldn't think I set much store by 
 praying to the "Holy Mother." 
 
 Miss Warrington bless her! it isn't to the 
 "Holy Mother" I pray for her! made a remark, 
 when we were driving toward North Haven, 
 that gave me the chance to speak about Mrs. 
 Makart. 
 
 "Miss Brenson," she said, "I wonder if we 
 could not arrange for you to accompany me, 
 when I go back to town? Do you think your 
 aunt would object?"
 
 SANDPEEP 301 
 
 "She would not object, if she thought I wanted 
 to go," I answered. "But I would not for the 
 world let her know how dearly I should love to 
 go with you. I could not leave her; she would 
 grieve herself to death." 
 
 "But you would come back next summer." 
 
 "She would die of loneliness before then, I'm 
 afraid." 
 
 "Have you no one, no relations, she could live 
 with?" 
 
 "All the relations we ever had are at rest in 
 the bury ing-ground, in the pasture back of our 
 house." 
 
 "I am very sorry " 
 
 Sorry? I could not have made the dear, kind 
 lady understand how sorry / was. 
 
 "I am very sorry," she said it again, "not 
 only for myself, but for your pupil. I know I 
 shall not find another teacher who will be as 
 patient as you are." 
 
 "I am thankful you are satisfied with me, dear 
 Miss Warrington," I answered, and I gave her 
 hand a little squeeze. "I hope you will believe 
 that nothing would give me more pleasure than 
 to go home with you, if I could leave my aunt. 
 If a patient teacher is what you want," I added, 
 "I know one you can get." 
 
 "Who is she a native?" 
 
 "No; Malston's sister." 
 
 "I could not think of employing the sister of
 
 302 SANDPEEP 
 
 one of our grooms to teach my nephew," she 
 answered, very dignified as if a groom's sister 
 wasn't smart enough to teach a boy like Geoffrey! 
 
 "Well, then," I said, after thinking a minute, 
 determined to do my best for Mrs. Makart, and 
 at the same time hating to deceive the dear, 
 kind lady though I guess she would forgive 
 me if he knew the reason I did it! "isn't 
 there anything else she could do ? be a maid, 
 or something?" 
 
 "If we decide to retain her brother, which is 
 very probable, I will try to find something for the 
 woman. If Agnes goes back to England, Mrs. 
 Makart shall have her place. I suppose she 
 knows the duties of a housemaid?" 
 
 "Why, yes, I suppose she does," I answered. 
 "Anyhow, she knows how to keep her own house 
 neat and clean as a new pin!" 
 
 "Very well, she shall have the place, because 
 you want it for her!" and she smiled most 
 kindly. 
 
 I thanked her warmly, and soon afterward we 
 drove into the Helmsley place, a very sightly 
 spot, though not nearly so large as Surgecliff 
 Lodge. 
 
 Miss Helmsley was very kind to me, and 
 showed me all over the house; after which she 
 gave us a cup of tea, and some perfectly delicious 
 cake. When we were leaving, she said to Miss 
 Warrington: "Please don't let Brian forget that
 
 SANDPEEP 303 
 
 we expect him to dine with us on Saturday, and 
 to come prepared to remain over Sunday " 
 
 "I sha'n't tell him that," Miss Warrington in- 
 terrupted. "He must not leave me and Juliet 
 without a protector at night! But you may 
 expect him to dinner."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 1WAS passing through the hall from the dining- 
 room, the morning after my drive with Miss 
 Warrington, when James told me that one of 
 the grooms wanted to speak to me at the side 
 door. It was Malston. He had come to tell me 
 that his sister was sick with a very sore throat - 
 and thought the little master had better not go to 
 the cottage until the doctor should say there was 
 no danger. 
 
 I was sorry for her, of course, as I should be 
 for any sick body; but I was a good deal sorrier 
 that her sickness would hinder me from going to 
 the cottage, to keep my watch over her and 
 Andrew. 
 
 I told Malston that I had spoken to Miss 
 Warrington about the chance for his sister, and 
 I thought she might depend on getting it. 
 
 He thanked me over and over again, and said 
 he knew the good news would help to console 
 her for the loss of my delightful society! He 
 thinks I don't know what so much "butter and 
 sugar" are for! The doctor said she had a slight 
 attack of diphtheria, which is very catching, and 
 though I was not afraid for myself, Miss War- 
 rington would not allow me to go to the cottage, 
 
 304
 
 SANDPEEP 305 
 
 for fear I might give the terrible disease to Geof- 
 frey. As Malston wouldn't be allowed to go to 
 see his sister, either, while there was danger, she 
 would have only Andrew to take care of her, and 
 I felt pretty sure he wouldn't try to harm Mr. 
 Warrington while she was sick, and I might safely 
 go home on Saturday as usual. 
 
 But I was mistaken! 
 
 The fog was really " thick as mustard" on Sat- 
 urday evening. Aunt and I were getting ready 
 for bed, she in the spare-chamber, and I in the 
 closet-room, when a loud knock at the door made 
 us both jump. 
 
 " My soul 'n' body!" aunt exclaimed, and hur- 
 ried on her dress. " Who's thet, this time o' 
 night? Somebody's took sick, I cal'late." 
 
 She took the candle, by which we had both 
 been getting ready for bed, from the kitchen 
 table and opened the door. A man in a rubber 
 coat, with the rim of his hat pulled down over 
 his eyes, was standing on the stoop. I could see 
 him plainly through a crack in the closet-door, 
 but I did not recognize him until he spoke. 
 Then I was scared! It was Andrew; and Mr. 
 Warrington would be going home from North 
 Haven late, and by himself! 
 
 "Pardon me, madame, for disturbing you," 
 he said, without taking off his hat, "but I have 
 lost my way. I want to go to North Haven, and 
 I don't know which way to turn in this heavy fog."
 
 306 SANDPEEP 
 
 Aunt held the candle so close to his face it 
 almost set fire to his beard, when she answered: 
 
 "Ef you caPlated to git to North Haven down 
 this way, mister, guess you hev lost your way, 
 sure enough!" 
 
 "Isn't there a road along the shore here to 
 North Haven?" he interrupted. 
 
 "No, there hain't no road along the shore 
 here to North Haven, 'n' to nowhere else!" she 
 answered, tart as vinegar. She wasn't pleased 
 with his way of talking. "You hev to go 'crosst 
 the pastur, 'n' through the woods to the main 
 road, then turn to the west'erd " 
 
 "I don't know west from east here," he inter- 
 rupted again, and more impatiently. "I am a 
 stranger in these parts." 
 
 "Thet's what I caPlated! Wall, ef you don't 
 know west from east, guess you kin tell your left 
 hand from your right. When you git to the end 
 of the wood-road, you jes' turn to your left 
 thet's west'erd 'n' keep to thet road, 'n' you'll 
 git to North Haven bimeby." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 He had stepped down from the stoop, when 
 aunt's kind heart made her say: 
 
 "Ef you'd like to hev a lantern I'll loan you 
 one, 'n' you kin fetch it back in the morninV 
 
 "I'm not coming back this way," he answered, 
 very crossly, and walked out of the door-yard. 
 Though he had not been the least bit polite,
 
 SANDPEEP 307 
 
 aunt stood on the stoop with the candle until he 
 was in the pasture-road, and before she turned 
 to come into the house she called after him: 
 " Good-night, mister, 'n' good luck to you!" 
 "Good luck to him! Not if / can hinder it," I 
 said to myself. I knew very well why he was 
 going to North Haven at that late hour, and I 
 made up my mind, before he left the stoop, that 
 he shouldn't harm Mr. .Warrington if I could 
 hinder it; and I thought I could. I thought 
 aunt never would get to bed, she had so much 
 to say about the " strange gentleman thet hedn't 
 a mite of manners." 
 
 At last I was free to get ready to follow Andrew, 
 for that is what I'd made up my mind to do. I 
 stole out to the shed, where I put on Zemro's old 
 oilskin coat and hat, and rubber boots; and when 
 my skirts were pinned up, so they wouldn't show 
 below the coat, which was buttoned to the chin, 
 and the rim of my hat was pulled down over the 
 coat collar, no one could have told that I wasn't 
 a boy. Then I lighted the lantern, blew out the 
 candle, and slipped out of the shed-door. I hur- 
 ried across the pasture and up the wood-road, 
 dreadfully afraid I should not be able to catch 
 up with Andrew, for my feet were heavy with 
 the big rubber boots; but when I got into the 
 main road, I heard stumbling footsteps just ahead 
 of me, and knew they were not made by a 
 longshore body. We are all too well acquainted
 
 3 o8 SANDPEEP 
 
 with our rough roads to go along kicking every 
 rock in them. How Andrew found his way 
 to the main road I can't imagine; for it was 
 "dark as in a bean-pot;" the fog was so thick 
 that my lantern made shadows on it as on 
 a wall. 
 
 I don't think I really "sensed," as aunt would 
 say, just what I had undertaken, until I heard 
 those stumbling footsteps ahead of me; and it 
 took every mite of courage I had in me to follow 
 them. I would not let myself think what might 
 happen if Andrew should recognize me. I knew 
 he would take good care not to let me snatch a 
 pistol from him a second time! I thought only 
 of what would surely happen, if I did not carry 
 out my plan. So, pretending to be Lonny Mar- 
 kle, whom I can mock so exactly that it would 
 deceive his own mother, I began to whistle in 
 his no-tune way, and slouched forward with long 
 steps just like his. Clump-clump, went my heavy 
 boots among the rocks in the road, the lantern 
 swinging forward and back with every step. 
 
 "Hello!" I said, talking through my nose, ex- 
 actly like Lonny, when I caught up with the 
 stumbler. "Where you bound fur, mister?" 
 
 "What business is that of yours, Sniffles?" he 
 answered, turning to look at me for a second 
 and then pulling the collar of his coat farther 
 over his face. 
 
 "Hain't any business of mine, mister; I jes'
 
 SANDPEEP 309 
 
 ast, thet's all," and I began to whistle again, 
 and made believe to walk on ahead, but he kept 
 up with me, and after a minute asked : 
 
 "Where are you going, sonny?" 
 
 "Cal'late thet's my business, mister!" I an- 
 swered, just as Lonny would have, for he is an 
 impudent boy. 
 
 Andrew laughed, then said : 
 
 "Right you are, son tit for tat! Take your 
 own part, that's the only way to get along in this 
 world! But we won't quarrel about good man- 
 ners; let's be good comrades, for I want to jog 
 along with your lantern, if you are going my way." 
 
 "All right, mister, I hain't no objections. The 
 light sha'n't cost you nawthin, ef you're bound 
 fur Sandy P'int." 
 
 " Where's Sandy P'int?" 
 
 "To the east'erd of North Haven " 
 
 "This side, or the other side of North 
 Haven?" he interrupted. 
 
 "This here side." 
 
 "How far is it from North Haven?" 
 
 " 'Tain't very fur." 
 
 " How far ? " impatiently. 
 
 "Wall I d'no' jes' ezactly." 
 
 "Is it on the same road?" 
 
 "Is what on the same road to where?" 
 
 He said a swear word before he explained: 
 
 "Is Sandy P'int on the same road to North 
 Haven?"
 
 310 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Ya'as 't be; only, when you git to where the 
 road forks, you turn to the west'erd to go to 
 North Haven, 'n' to the east'erd to go to the 
 Pint" 
 
 "Well, when we come to where the road 
 forks, tell me which way to turn to go to 
 North Haven you understand ? " 
 
 "Cal'late I do. Be you stoppin' to North 
 Haven?" 
 
 "Near there," he answered, very shortly. 
 
 "On a vessil, I cal'late?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Be you the skipper?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Vessil goin' to stop long to North Haven?" 
 
 "No! Mind you don't forget to tell me where 
 to turn off!" 
 
 "I sha'n't. We hain't come to the place yit; 
 it's furder on." 
 
 And farther on we jogged, a strange pair, 
 neither of us what we seemed, our giant shadows 
 on the walls of fog on either side keeping us 
 company along the lonely road. 
 
 "Here we be," I told him, and stopped when 
 we got to the lane which leads to Wadham's 
 pond. "You jes' keep straight along this here 
 road, 'n' you'll git to North Haven, bimeby." 
 
 "This doesn't look like a road that's used 
 often," he allowed, peering down at the tall 
 grass in the lane. "Are you sure this is right?"
 
 SANDPEEP 311 
 
 "Ya'as; 'tain't used 's much as the one to the 
 P'int more folks go there." 
 
 "How far is it from here to North Haven?" 
 
 " 'Tain't fur " 
 
 "How far?" very angrily. "Can't you give 
 me an idea? Is it one mile, or a dozen?" 
 
 "'Tain't a dozen, only about two, or mebbe 
 three, 'n' mebbe four" 
 
 "Oh, damn your 'mebbes'!" he interrupted. 
 "Don't you live around here, that you can't 
 tell how far one place is from another?" 
 
 "Ya'as, I live 'round here not jes' right here, 
 hain't nobody lives right here but I hain't 
 never heerd anybody say jes' how fur 't is from 
 here to North Haven; hain't never heerd 't any- 
 body measured this road. Some folks 'lows it's 
 two mile, 'n' some 'lows it's three, 'n' " 
 
 He swore dreadfully and started up the lane, 
 but stopped after he had gone a little ways and 
 called : 
 
 "Say, you boy!" 
 
 "What be you wantin' now, mister?" I stopped 
 whistling to inquire. 
 
 "Are you positively sure this is the right road? 
 It doesn't seem to have been used this year." 
 
 "Guess you hev got onto the side of it, where 
 the grass hes growed. Keep to the middle, 
 mister, 'n' you'll git there, sure 'n' certing!" 
 
 "It's dark as- -here!" likening it to a place 
 that isn't dark at all!
 
 312 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Guess you don't know what sort of a place 
 you're talkin' about, mister," I called. " 'Cordin' 
 to Elder Snowdon, it's het up day 'n' night with 
 everlastin' fire 'n' brimstun, 'n' guess you'll find 
 it out too, sometime, ef yu keep on cussin' thet 
 way!" 
 
 He told me to go to the "place"; then he went 
 his way, and I mine, I toward North Haven and 
 he toward the pond. I knew the water wasn't 
 deep enough to drown him, if he should stumble 
 into it in the dark, though he would have a time 
 getting out, if he got tangled among the lilies. 
 Anyhow, by the time he found out that "Snif- 
 fles" had sent him on the wrong road, Mr. 
 Warrington would be safe back at the Lodge.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 TV THEN Andrew and I parted, I hadn't the 
 \\/ least idea what time it was, for I had 
 started from home in such a hurry that 
 I forgot to look at the clock; the fog made it 
 seem much later than it was, too. Even if I had 
 known the time I should not have been able to 
 tell just when Mr. Warrington would leave North 
 Haven, for city folks eat dinner so late and take 
 so long that it would likely be near to midnight 
 before I need look for him to come along. 
 
 But, midnight or morning, I wasn't going back 
 home until he did come, for it might happen, 
 though it wasn't likely, that Andrew might meet 
 someone who would set him on the right road; 
 or he might turn back of his own accord. I was 
 going to hinder a meeting between him and Mr. 
 Warrington if I had to stay there until broad 
 daylight! It seemed hours before I heard the 
 sound of horse-hoofs coming up the North Haven 
 road. I shall never forget that time of waiting, 
 if I live to be old as "Methusalum," as aunt 
 calls him. I imagined all sorts of dreadful things. 
 I thought a dozen times that I heard footsteps 
 and I was sure they were Andrew's. I hid the 
 lantern behind some rocks and bushes so that not 
 
 313
 
 314 SANDPEEP 
 
 a speck of light showed; and I sat still as a 
 mouse, waiting, listening, all a-tremble, my heart 
 pitty-pattying so loud I could almost hear it. 
 
 I made sure that the sounds I heard at last 
 were of horse-hoofs before I stepped from be- 
 hind the rocks into the road. Then I started in 
 the home direction, whistling and swinging my 
 lantern; I was Lonny Markle again. 
 
 "Good evening, my lad," said Mr. Warring- 
 ton's voice, when the horse came up with me. 
 
 " Hello, mister!" Lonny answered; I hadn't 
 the courage to look up. 
 
 "Where are you going?" 
 
 "A little ways furder 'n Bunker's Cove," hold- 
 ing the lantern so that the light shouldn't show 
 above my coat-tail. 
 
 "That is fortunate for me. I had no idea it 
 was so dark, or I should have brought a lantern. 
 I have been forced to trust to my horse to find 
 the road in this beastly fog. I shall be greatly 
 obliged if you will permit me to share the light 
 as far as we go together." 
 
 "I hain't no objections, 'm sure," Lonny an- 
 swered, and Sandpeep remarked to herself: 
 "What a difference between polite Mr. War- 
 rington and Andrew, with no manners at all!" 
 
 "Aren't you out rather late, my lad?" asked 
 the voice above my head. 
 
 "Ya'as, some; I be goin' a nurrand." 
 
 "Someone ill, I dare say?"
 
 SANDPEEP 315 
 
 An answer wasn't absolutely necessary, so I 
 didn't give any, but I ventured after a minute 
 to inquire if he was going "furder'n Bunker's 
 Cove." 
 
 "Yes, to Surgecliff Lodge; do you know where 
 that is?" 
 
 "Ya'as, 'n' I know a short cut to there ef 
 you're in a hurry, 'n' ef your beast ain't scart 
 of goin' through water." I mentioned the old 
 shore-path, which is safe enough for a horse 
 that doesn't mind water, because I kept fear- 
 ing that Andrew might have turned back. 
 
 "How deep is the water we should have to 
 cross?" Mr. Warrington asked. 
 
 "Depends on the tide. Ef it's out, there 
 hain't scursely any; ef it's flood, the water'll not 
 come above your horse's knees. The inlet's only 
 about twenty feet wide where we hev to cross it." 
 
 "Very well! Then let us take the shorter road. 
 But how will you cross the inlet if the tide is in?" 
 
 "I hev rubber boots on." 
 
 'All right, then; lead the way, my lad! I am 
 anxious to get back to the Lodge." 
 
 He wasn't more anxious to get there than I 
 was to have him there, safe and sound! 
 
 When we had crossed the meadow, between 
 the road and the shore, and were near the inlet, 
 which was filled with water, I said: 
 
 "Guess I better lead the horse acrosst, mister; 
 he might git scart ef a wave should roll in."
 
 316 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Are you perfectly sure you know where you 
 are going?" he asked, trying to peer through the 
 fog to the further side of the inlet. 
 
 "Ya'as I be. I know this here road like a 
 book. I hev crossed here more 'n a hundred 
 times." 
 
 Just then a big wave rolled into the inlet and 
 up to the horse's feet. The swishing sound 
 scared him. He reared and stamped around, 
 and for a minute I was afraid he would throw 
 his rider. But Mr. Warrington stuck to the 
 saddle like a burr to a sheep's back. 
 
 "It is foolhardy to try to cross here now," he 
 said, and patted his horse's neck to quiet him. 
 "We must go back to the road." 
 
 "There isn't the least danger, sir," I inter- 
 rupted, forgetting to be sniffling Lonny in my 
 eagerness to hinder him from going back to 
 real danger, maybe! But I don't think he 
 noticed: he was too busy with his horse; and 
 before he could speak again I had caught hold 
 of the bridle and pulled the horse after me into 
 the water. 
 
 We were almost across the inlet when a second 
 big wave swept up to the horse's knees. He 
 snorted, reared up on his hind legs and splashed 
 the water all over me; but I stuck to the bridle 
 like another burr, and after a short tussle I 
 drew him after me up the bank to the road. 
 
 "Here you be, mister, safe 'n' sound!" I said,
 
 SANDPEEP 317 
 
 and let go the bridle. "Now, it's only 'bout a 
 quarter of a mile to the Lodge." 
 
 "You have come a considerable distance out 
 of your way, haven't you?" he asked. 
 
 "A right smart ways," I allowed, "but I don't 
 mind 't a mite; I ain't scart of the dark. Do 
 you want I should go with you furder? " 
 
 "Thank you, no! The fog seems to be lifting, 
 and my horse will have no difficulty finding his 
 way home from here. I am very much obliged 
 to you for showing me the shorter road. This is 
 for your trouble." 
 
 "This" was a half dollar, which he leaned 
 from the saddle to give to Lonny Markle. Sand- 
 peep Brenson would have refused it, but Lonny 
 had to take it. He said: "Much obliged to 
 you, mister," and waited in the road until the 
 horse and his rider had vanished into the fog. 
 Then Sandpeep Brenson ran, fast as she could 
 in her heavy boots, back to Bunker's Cove. 
 
 I did not light a match to look at the clock 
 when I got home, for I did not want to waken 
 aunt; so I haven't the least idea what time it 
 was. I think, though, it must have been after 
 midnight. 
 
 My first thought when I awoke the next morn- 
 ing was, naturally, of Andrew; and I hoped he 
 had got a good ducking in the lily-pond. I believe 
 I was more scared in broad daylight at what I 
 had done, than I had been while doing it. I
 
 318 SANDPEEP 
 
 know I could not do it again. Suppose Andrew 
 had found out I was "the wench," instead of 
 sniffling Lonny! I should be dead now, with a 
 bullet in me, lying somewhere among the bushes 
 along the road, and poor old aunt would be out 
 of her mind with grieving for her lost Sandpeep! 
 
 I am not as brave, after all, as I thought I 
 was. I can only hope and pray that the dread- 
 ful creature will not try to do anything more until 
 I get back to the Lodge. 
 
 When aunt and I went to meeting this morn- 
 ing, several Cove men were standing near the 
 schoolhouse steps, listening to Everett Bassett, 
 who was telling them something which seemed to 
 interest them very much. As the Elder hadn't 
 come yet, I stopped to hear what Everett was 
 talking about. 
 
 "He told me 'n' Whitcom' 't a young chap 't 
 wus goin' to Sandy P'int, hed told him the 
 pond-lane wus the road to North Haven, 'n' 
 thet he hed gone thet way nach'ly, bein' a 
 stranger 'round here, 'n' not acquainted with the 
 roads - 
 
 " 'N' he walked right into the pond, you say?" 
 one of the men interrupted. 
 
 "Right straight into 't." 
 
 " 'N' who wus the young chap 't told him 
 the pond-lane wus the road to North Haven?" 
 another listener asked. 
 
 "I don't know. The gentleman 'lowed he was
 
 SANDPEEP 319 
 
 a tall chap 'n' hed on an oilskin coat, V sou'- 
 wester, 'n' hed a lantern." 
 
 "Like 's not 't wus Nahum Bartlett," one of 
 the men allowed. 
 
 "No, 't wa'n't Nahum; he's mackrelin' down 
 to 'Tit Manan," Everett answered. "Whoever 
 't wus come near to drowndin' the gentleman, 
 fur he got all tangled up 'mong the lilies 
 growin' in the pond. When he got out, he 
 didn't know which way to go, fur he'd got 
 completely turned 'round, wrastlin' with them 
 lily-stems, so he jes' set down on the ground, 
 wet 's a drownded kittin, 'n' waited till 't got 
 light enough to see where he was goin'." 
 
 "Wa'n't any too pleased, dessay?" one of the 
 listeners allowed, and laughed. 
 
 "No he wa'n't; when I see him, over to Whit- 
 corn's, where he wus drinkin' some hot tea Mis' 
 Whitcom' 'd made fur him, he was mad 's a 
 smoked-out hornet." 
 
 "Guess ef he could get hold of thet young 
 chap, he wouldn't treat him to sas'prilly!" 
 
 "Don't guess he would," agreed Everett, and 
 laughed with the rest. 
 
 I "don't guess" he would, either! and I am 
 truly thankful he believes it was a "young chap" 
 that sent him down the pond-lane.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 "1 17 THEN Malston came to the Cove for me on 
 
 yy Monday morning, he told me his sister 
 was much better; that the doctor had 
 made a mistake. It wasn't diphtheria she'd had, 
 only a bad sore throat, and I might call to see 
 her very soon. I understood then about Andrew 
 leaving her on Saturday evening; but I imagine 
 he hadn't expected to stay all night, when he 
 started to North Haven! I should like to know 
 if she knew what his errand was, and what he 
 told her had kept him. She must have passed 
 an anxious night. 
 
 I was on my way to the schoolroom, when 
 Miss Warrington called to me from the door of 
 her room: "Here are two letters for you, Miss 
 Brenson. Donald brought them with our mail 
 from the Headlands." 
 
 "Two letters! " I repeated in great surprise, going 
 back to get them. One is enough always to set me 
 all a-tremble with curiosity and expectation! 
 
 As I guessed, one was from Dr. Parke. The 
 writing on the other envelope was strange to me. 
 I opened the doctor's, and I copy it here in my 
 book, so that I need not trouble to store it in 
 my mind-closet! 
 
 320
 
 SANDPEEP 321 
 
 "ON BOARD THE Nautilus, 
 "NEW YORK HARBOR, 
 
 " AUGUST 25th, 187 
 
 "Mv DEAR KEREN, 
 
 "When I came away from Surgecliff I had not the 
 least expectation of voyaging around the world, or I 
 should have told you what I must write now, in 
 great haste, as our yacht is about to weigh anchor. 
 If you should see that tramp again, or discover evi- 
 dences of his presence in your neighborhood, at once 
 inform Mr. Warrington. I assure you it is of the 
 greatest importance that he should know everything 
 which relates to that ruffian, who would have shot 
 you but for your courageous act. 
 
 " In great haste, 
 
 "Your old friend, 
 
 "L. J. PARKE." 
 
 As I had decided to do what the doctor ad- 
 vised, I didn't have to puzzle over his letter; 
 but the other gave me something to think about. 
 It was from Mr. Fairboro, and also written on 
 board the vessel. I copy it here, too, for I 
 think any girl would be pleased to have such 
 a perfectly lovely letter to read over once in a 
 while : 
 
 "My DEAR Miss BRENSON, 
 
 "As my hasty departure from Surgecliff prevented 
 me from bidding you good-bye, I send it with the 
 enclosed, in which you will recognize the list of 
 names you requested me to write out for you, that 
 memorable Sunday we walked home together from 
 the schoolhouse. I trust this list may afford you 
 some pleasurable as well as profitable moments, and 
 beg that, while you are making yourself acquainted
 
 322 SANDPEEP 
 
 with these distinguished personages, through the 
 medium of your favorite encyclopaedia, you will give 
 a thought to the ^^distinguished friend who made 
 it possible for you to know them! 
 
 "Mere pen and ink are powerless adequately to 
 express feeling; else might I convince you how loth 
 I was to leave the Lodge without seeing you again. 
 But this long voyage will be made endurable, in a 
 measure, by the expectation I shall cherish of re- 
 turning next summer to your charmingly pictur- 
 esque neighborhood. I wish I might also expect to 
 find, when I meet you again, that you had not 
 plighted your troth to a favored suitor, while an 
 untoward fate compelled me to roam! 
 
 "I feel alas! that it would be an imperti- 
 nence were I to ask you to remain 'heart-whole and 
 fancy-free ' until we meet again! I can only hope 
 that you will! 
 
 "At our first port I shall be able to write you 
 where to address a letter to me. You see that I am 
 looking forward to hearing from you! Please write 
 to me; tell me all about yourself, what you are 
 doing, for I beg you to believe everything that 
 interests you will be of the greatest interest to 
 "Yours faithfully, now and always! 
 
 "CARRINGTON FAIRBORO." 
 
 There! Isn't that just too beautiful for any- 
 thing? And won't I enjoy reading it when I 
 am a wrinkled, gray-haired old woman, like 
 aunt? While I was in the library, looking in 
 the dictionary to find out what plighting troth 
 meant, Miss Warrington came in, and, seeing 
 the open letter in my hand, she asked, smiling: 
 
 "Has the doctor puzzled you with one of his 
 big words?"
 
 SANDPEEP 323 
 
 "Not the doctor," I answered; and I got red 
 as a beet. 
 
 "Mr. Fairboro, then? You see, I know his 
 writing!" 
 
 "Ye es." 
 
 "My dear," laying her hand on my shoulder, 
 "don't think me a meddlesome old woman if I 
 ask if Carrington Fairboro wants you to corre- 
 spond with him? Believe me, I ask it for your 
 own good." 
 
 "I do believe you, dear Miss Warrington. 
 Yes, Mr. Fairboro wants me to write to him." 
 
 "And shall you?" 
 
 "I I don't know not if you think I'd 
 better not." 
 
 "I hardly know what to say," she answered, 
 slowly, after thinking a minute. "The lad is 
 such an unconscionable flirt! I think, if I were 
 you, I should burn his letter and think no more 
 about it. I advise you to do this for your own 
 happiness. You don't care especially about him, 
 do you?" looking at me closely. 
 
 "I think he is a very pleasant gentleman, and 
 I like to talk to him, because he knows so much 
 more than I do. That is how I think of him, 
 and not in the way you believe I do, dear Miss 
 Warrington," I assured her. 
 
 "And you would like to correspond with him 
 because you imagine you would learn something 
 from him?"
 
 324 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Yes, I think I should, if he didn't write such 
 puzzling things." 
 
 "What sort of puzzling things? I don't un- 
 derstand." 
 
 "I didn't, either, until I looked in the diction- 
 ary. I just couldn't imagine what he meant by 
 'plighting troth'" 
 
 "Does he ask you to plight your troth?" she 
 interrupted quickly. 
 
 "No only wishes he might expect to find, 
 when he comes back here, that I hadn't plighted 
 my troth to somebody. We don't call it that 
 here, so I had -to look in the dictionary to see 
 what it meant! I don't really believe," I added 
 hastily, seeing that her eyebrows had come close 
 together, just like Mr. Warrington's when he is 
 vexed, "he wrote that way because he would 
 want to be my company. I think he likes to 
 talk to me almost as well as I do to him, and 
 thinks it wouldn't be proper to do so, if I had 
 plighted my troth to somebody else." 
 
 "Well, whatever he may think now," she 
 answered, "you may be quite certain that he will 
 not be of the same mind next summer. He is 
 exactly like the giddy butterfly which flits from 
 flower to flower; he forgets the blossom he has 
 admired the moment another attracts his fancy. 
 So, take my advice burn his letter, and think 
 no more about it, or him!" 
 
 I can burn the letter easily enough, and I will;
 
 SANDPEEP 325 
 
 but I don't want to forget it, it is too pretty. I 
 couldn't forget him if I wanted to, for I haven't 
 met enough nice, smart gentlemen to crowd any- 
 one of them out of my mind. After all, I guess 
 it's the "smart" in a man I care for more than 
 the man himself. Dear knows! if Zemro could 
 book-talk like Mr. Fairboro, and write such 
 beautiful letters, he wouldn't need to be cruis- 
 ing in the West Indies; and aunt wouldn't be 
 shucking her lobsters herself! 
 
 I hadn't a chance to speak to Mr. Warrington 
 about the doctor's letter, for he rode away with 
 his cousin directly after luncheon. So I took 
 Geoffrey and went to call on Mrs. Makart. She 
 was lying on the lounge in the front room, and 
 called out, before I got to the door: "I don't 
 hear the patter of little feet! Oh, why haven't 
 you brought my darling?" 
 
 "He is coming," I answered, walking into the 
 room; "he has only stopped at the gate to look 
 at a caterpillar. How are you to-day?" 
 
 "Almost well again, thank you. I could say 
 quite my old self again, if I hadn't had such a 
 terrible fright on Saturday. I have hardly got 
 over it yet." 
 
 "What happened to scare you?" I asked, as 
 if I did not know. 
 
 "Andrew lost himself in the fog and wandered 
 around all night, trying to find his way. He had 
 to go to the Headlands for some medicine on
 
 326 SANDPEEP 
 
 Saturday afternoon, and he never came back 
 until late yesterday morning. Oh, I can't tell 
 you how awfully frightened I was, here by my- 
 self all night! I imagined all sorts of dreadful 
 things. He stumbled into a pond, which, by 
 good luck, wasn't very deep; but he got wet 
 from head to foot, and caught a bad cold wan- 
 dering around in his wet clothes." 
 
 "Is he here now?" I asked, a little uneasy, 
 for, though I didn't think he would recognize 
 "Sniffles," I didn't care to meet him. 
 
 "Yes, the poor fellow is asleep on the settle in 
 the kitchen. I only hope he isn't going to be as 
 sick as I was. But I want to thank you for the 
 good news you sent me. Didn't I tell you Miss 
 Warrington would listen to you?" 
 
 I thought it best to let her believe it was sure, 
 at least, until I had spoken to Mr. Warrington; 
 and I was thankful that Geoffrey just then ran 
 into the room with the wiggling caterpillar be- 
 tween his thumb and forefinger. 
 
 "See, see, Mees Brenson!" he exclaimed, and 
 stuck it almost into my face, "see hims kick on 
 two ends!" 
 
 "Throw it away," I commanded, sharply, for 
 I am dreadfully scared of caterpillars. "Throw 
 it outdoors and then shake hands with Mrs. 
 Makart." 
 
 "You must not speak so crossly to him, Miss 
 Brenson," she said; "I cannot allow it. Remem-
 
 SANDPEEP 327 
 
 her that the dear lamb does not understand 
 everything you say to him." 
 
 I looked at her in surprise, she had changed 
 so from the meek little mouse of a woman she 
 was at first. 
 
 "I have to speak that way to him when I want 
 him to obey," I answered, very dignified. "He 
 doesn't mind when I coax him." 
 
 "That may be; I will not allow him to be 
 ordered about as if he were a horse, or a dog! 
 No one shall correct him but myself. I alone 
 understand how to manage him. He shall not 
 be forced to do what he does not want to do." 
 
 "I don't see how you are going to hinder 
 his father's orders from being carried out," I 
 said. 
 
 "I shall find a way," she answered, shortly. 
 
 I thought it better not to argue with her, so I 
 said calmly: "When you have charge of the boy 
 you may be able to hinder other folks from tell- 
 ing him what to do; but while he is in my care, 
 I must do what I was hired to do, or I sha'n't 
 feel as if I were earning my wages. You ought 
 to know by this time that I would not be cruel 
 to him" 
 
 "I do I do," she interrupted, in a different 
 tone; "I know how kind, how patient, you are 
 with him, dear Miss Brenson, and I hope you will 
 pardon me for speaking as I did. My temper 
 is so quick, and I can't endure to have anyone,
 
 328 SANDPEEP 
 
 not even you, you dear, good girl, speak crossly 
 to my baby." 
 
 She turned toward her "baby," who was watch- 
 ing the caterpillar "kick on two ends," and said 
 something to him in French. He looked at her 
 for a second, his black eyes wide open; then 
 he threw the caterpillar out the door and 
 rushed into her arms, not minding in the least 
 that he had turned over a little table with a 
 lot of things on it a work-basket, books, and 
 a little box, the lid of which burst open when it 
 struck the floor. 
 
 I stooped to pick up the things, which were 
 scattered all over the floor, and I was attracted 
 by a card that had fallen out of the box. It was 
 the photograph of two very pretty girls, standing 
 side by side. One held a riding-whip in her 
 hand; the other, a bunch of roses. They were 
 dressed exactly alike, in very short frocks, almost 
 to the knees; neck, shoulders and arms bare. 
 They looked exactly alike. I sat back on my 
 heels and said to Mrs. Makart: "These young 
 ladies look something like you when you haven't 
 got on you know?" pointing to my hair and 
 eyes. 
 
 "They are me!" she said; and she smiled, 
 keeping her arms around Geoffrey. 
 
 "Both of them? Why, how in the world 
 could the picture-man take two photographs of 
 you at once?"
 
 SANDPEEP 329 
 
 "Two of my photographs were placed side by 
 side, and a picture taken of them." 
 
 " Sure enough! I never thought of that. When 
 was it taken?" 
 
 "A long time ago; I was only fifteen or sixteen." 
 
 "You wore very short dresses," I allowed. 
 
 "That was the fashion then." 
 
 I did not believe that, but of course I didn't 
 tell her so. I said: "This looks like the picture 
 of twins." 
 
 "So it does," she agreed, and held out her 
 hand for it. Before I gave it to her, I turned it 
 over and read what was printed on the back of 
 it: "Paris," and the name of the photograph 
 man. Two other names were written on it 
 "Angela Angeline." 
 
 "Is that your name?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes; I was called after my two grand- 
 mothers." 
 
 "Angela," I said, watching her out of the 
 corner of my eye, "was the name of the lady 
 who came to our house with Mr. Warrington, 
 that stormy night long ago. Don't you remem- 
 ber I told you about her?" 
 
 "Yes; but you did not tell me the lady's 
 name. There are many Angelas in the world," 
 she allowed, kissing Geoffrey again, before she 
 let him run outdoors. I was perfectly dis- 
 gusted. I got up from the floor, and standing 
 in front of her, said very sternly:
 
 330 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Look here, Mrs. Makart, what is the use pre- 
 tending any longer? You say you trust me, 
 when all the time you are trying your best to 
 make me believe things I know are not true. 
 There may be hundreds of Angelas in the world, 
 but you are the Angela who came to our house 
 with Mr. Warrington, so you may just as well 
 stop pretending you are not. What made you 
 tell me you were married in a church, with arti- 
 ficials on the altar, when you knew that I knew 
 you weren't? Why did you say you never were 
 in a sailboat until I carried you in the Keren to 
 see my aunt? Why, I invited you to go home 
 with me, just because I wanted you to tell me 
 you remembered Bunker's Cove, my aunt and 
 my father. I can believe that you have for- 
 gotten me, though how you could forget the little 
 girl you gave your ring to on your wedding 
 morning, I don't know, I'm sure." 
 
 The words rushed from my lips, like water 
 from a pump-spout, and they made an impres- 
 sion. I could see Mrs. Makart' s eyes sparkle 
 behind the blue glass specs, and she seemed to 
 hold her breath, as if she were afraid she might 
 miss hearing a word. The knuckles of her fin- 
 gers were a dead white, her hands were clasped 
 together so tightly. 
 
 11 Do you imagine," I went on,^fast as before, 
 for, having got started, I thought I might as well 
 let her know my opinion of her silly acting, "that
 
 SANDPEEP 331 
 
 I, to whom so little has happened, could forget 
 what formed an epoch in my life? I remember 
 every single thing how soaking wet you were, 
 with the rain shining in your hair like diamonds; 
 how funny you looked in aunt's meeting-frock; 
 how pleased you were with the bunch of flowers 
 I picked for you for 'good luck,' you said, 
 and gave me this ring that morning before 
 you started to the Headlands." 
 
 "The the Headlands?" she interrupted, her 
 breath coming fast, and with her clasped hands 
 pressed against her breast. 
 
 "Yes, the Headlands, to be sure! Oh, / re- 
 member every single little thing! and I have 
 written it all down in a book, too, so that if the 
 years should take it out of my mind I shall still 
 have the record of it I can believe that you 
 don't know Mr. Warrington drew a picture of 
 me that morning, for you were still in bed when 
 he did it. But when you saw the picture he has 
 painted from it, the one Geoffrey brought to my 
 room at the Lodge the other day, I certainly 
 expected you to say you recognized the little 
 sandy-haired girl who had given you flowers on 
 your wedding-day. But you pretended you had 
 never seen her, and have kept on pretending, 
 until I'm sick and tired of it! So you may 
 just as well own up from now on, Mrs. War- 
 rington, for " 
 
 "Don't call me that!" she interrupted. "I
 
 332 SANDPEEP 
 
 can't tell you how I hate the name! I hate! 
 hate! hate it! As for my pretending, I don't 
 know how to excuse myself. But, please 
 please dear, good, kind Miss Brenson, don't 
 imagine that I think you stupid and ignorant. 
 I think you are the best, wisest, dearest girl in 
 the whole world! Oh, I can't tell you how 
 much I owe you ! Please forgive me I will not 
 deceive you any more. I say yes yes yes, to 
 everything. I have had to be so careful that I 
 don't wonder you say I acted strangely. Though 
 I knew I could trust you, I was afraid to tell you 
 everything Andrew is so terrible ! But, if he 
 should kill me for it, I will not pretend any more 
 to you. Yes yes; I am the Angela who was 
 at your house that stormy night; I am the An- 
 gela you gave the pretty flowers to; and I gave 
 you that little ring for good luck! Your dear, 
 good father took me and Mr. Warrington to the 
 Headlands in your beautiful boat, and we were 
 married by let me see ? what was his name ? 
 I am ashamed, but I have really forgotten." 
 
 She wrinkled her forehead, and thought and 
 thought, but she couldn't remember. 
 
 " 'Squire Willetts," I said. 
 
 "Yes yes of course 'Squire Willetts ! How 
 stupid of me to forget ! But I never can remember 
 names!" 
 
 I might have told her about the certificate with 
 'Squire Willetts's name signed to it, but I didn't.
 
 SANDPEEP 333 
 
 I remembered what I had overheard her and 
 Andrew say the day I eavesdropped in the 
 lane. I feel quite sure that no one but Mr. 
 Warrington ought to have it. She was going to 
 speak again, but just then we heard Andrew 
 moving about in the kitchen. 
 
 "There," I said, "your brother is awake, and 
 may want you; I'll go now." She let me go with- 
 out coaxing me to stay longer, as always before. 
 She did not even call Geoffrey in to bid him 
 good-bye. She was as anxious to be rid of me as 
 I was to go; and I heard her talking fast to 
 Andrew before I was well out of the door-yard. 
 I would have liked to hear what she told him.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 TV /HEN I got back to the Lodge, I left 
 
 \W Geoffrey playing with Bonny on the 
 
 terrace, and went at once to the library, 
 
 where I rang the bell and asked James to tell 
 
 Mr. Warrington, if he was back from his ride, 
 
 that I would like to speak to him for a few 
 
 minutes. 
 
 He came in very soon and I told him what Dr. 
 Parke had asked me to do, if I saw the tramp 
 again. 
 
 "Have you seen him again?" he asked, draw- 
 ing up a chair for me, and taking one himself. 
 
 "Yes, sir, several times." 
 
 "Several times?" he repeated, and the wrinkle 
 showed between his eyebrows. 
 
 "Yes, sir; at the cottage and at another 
 place." 
 
 "At Malston's cottage, do you mean?' 
 
 "Yes, sir. Malston isn't his true name, and 
 the tramp is his brother." 
 
 "Who is Malston, and why is he masquerad- 
 ing here under a false name?" he asked, the 
 wrinkle deepening. 
 
 "He and Andrew that is the tramp's name 
 are brothers to your to Geoffrey's mother." 
 
 334
 
 SANDPEEP 335 
 
 He did not say anything for a minute, only 
 looked very sober. Then he asked me if I 
 was certain that what I had told him was 
 true. 
 
 "I am quite certain," I answered decidedly. 
 
 "May I hear how you learned all this? Tell 
 me all you know about those people at the 
 cottage. It is of the utmost importance that I 
 should know everything." 
 
 "That is what the doctor wrote," I said. 
 Then I told him everything about finding the 
 certificate (which he did not seem to think of 
 much importance); about Mrs. Makart climbing 
 up to the balcony to see Geoffrey and why Bonny 
 hadn't made any noise when he saw her; about 
 Andrew hunting for an important paper at the 
 Lodge; about seeing Mrs. Makart without the 
 wig and blue specs; about how she had pre- 
 tended she had never been in a sailboat, or seen 
 my aunt. I told him how I had made her own 
 up to being at our house; giving me the ring; 
 sailing to the Headlands in the Keren; and why 
 I had asked Miss Warrington to give her a 
 chance. I told him about the double photo- 
 graph; and I repeated as nearly as I could 
 remember, the conversation I had listened to be- 
 tween Mrs. Makart and" Andrew. I told him 
 every single thing, even about Andrew getting 
 a ducking in the lily-pond, though I did not 
 mention who sent him into it!
 
 336 SANDPEEP 
 
 "How did you learn that he wanted to go to 
 North Haven?" 
 
 My face got red as fire when he asked me that 
 so suddenly. "He he came to our house to 
 ask the way," I answered, but I could not look 
 at him. His sharp eyes seemed to bore right 
 into my mind for what I did not want him to 
 know. 
 
 "Did he tell you his errand to North Haven?" 
 
 "No, sir, of course not, but I knew it wasn't 
 for any good. I don't think he feels very friendly 
 toward you, Mr. Warrington." 
 
 "I know he doesn't," he answered, and smiled 
 in a peculiar way. "And, knowing that he does 
 not feel friendly toward me, you believed he 
 intended to waylay and perhaps assault me, 
 which, coming so unexpectedly on that lonely 
 road, so entirely unprepared as I was, might 
 have resulted disastrously for me? I under- 
 stand now, what has been puzzling me ever 
 since that exciting moment at the inlet the 
 great difference between my guide's manner 
 and speech then, and when we were safe on 
 dry land ! Your disguise, Miss Brenson, was per- 
 fect, but your concern for my safety betrayed 
 you. How am I to repay such" 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Warrington," I interrupted, ashamed 
 at having been found out, "please don't say 
 anything about paying me for that. Indeed, it' 
 wasn't anything to show you the old shore-road,
 
 SANDPEEP 337 
 
 for I know it as well as I do our own door-yard. 
 I thought it safer, because I was afraid Andrew 
 might have found out he wasn't on the right road, 
 and would come back. Please, Mr. Warrington, 
 don't say or think anything more about it." 
 
 Instead of answering that he wouldn't, he 
 said: "Your courage outweighs your prudence, 
 Miss Brenson; suppose you had encountered the 
 ruffian?" 
 
 "Why, I did encounter him," I answered, 
 and laughed; "I walked by his side for a mile 
 or more." 
 
 "You were alone with him, on that lonely 
 road ? Good God ! what a foolhardy thing to do ! " 
 
 He threw on the table the ivory paper knife he 
 had been turning between his fingers, got up, 
 and stood looking down at me, not exactly vexed. 
 If there is a word that describes vexed, aston- 
 ished, disapproval, wonder, then that is the word 
 I want. I wasn't pleased at being called "fool- 
 hardy," so I said: 
 
 "I don't see what there was to be scared of; 
 he didn't know me." 
 
 "And well for you that he didn't!" he an- 
 swered shortly, and walked to the window, where 
 he stood for a minute looking out. Then he 
 came back, sat down again and added: "You 
 may not see anything to be 'scared of in what 
 you did, but I don't believe there is another of 
 your sex living who would have done it."
 
 338 SANDPEEP 
 
 "I would do the same thing over again, to 
 keep harm from coming to you or Miss War- 
 rington," I told him. "It is the only way I 
 can pay you for all your kindness to me." 
 
 "You want to pay us for our kindness to you, 
 yet you refuse to let me repay you for having 
 saved my life?" 
 
 "Andrew might not have hurt you, sir," 
 I allowed, though I felt sure he would have 
 tried to. 
 
 "He might not have 'hurt' me," a smile light- 
 ing his sober face for a second; "but that does 
 not alter the fact that I am deeply indebted to 
 you, and I refuse to remain your debtor, as you 
 refuse to remain mine! Now, tell me what else 
 you have learned about the masqueraders at the 
 cottage." 
 
 "I have told you everything I know, sir," I 
 answered, and would have liked to say again 
 that I did not want pay for what I had done; 
 but he seemed so "sot" on it, I thought it best 
 not to argue with him, then; I could tell Miss 
 Warrington I would not accept anything. 
 
 "I don't believe you would have told me what 
 you have, if the doctor had not requested it, 
 would you?" he asked, after a minute. 
 
 "I did not want to tell you, sir; but when 
 I heard that the doctor was not coming back, I 
 had to." 
 
 "Why didn't you want to tell me, may I ask?"
 
 SANDPEEP 339 
 
 "Well I would rather have told the doctor, 
 because I am better acquainted with him. I 
 have known him ever since I was a tiny 
 girl." 
 
 "I see. I hope you feel well enough acquainted 
 with me now to do something else for me. As 
 our good friend the doctor is not here to stand 
 by me, I shall have to depend on your help 
 until the detectives I shall send for immediately, 
 arrive. My aunt and cousin must be kept in 
 ignorance until the detectives are here. So let 
 matters go on precisely as heretofore. Above 
 all, don't let the people at the cottage suspect 
 that I have learned who they are." 
 
 "They shan't find it out from me, sir," I 
 answered; and, because he was so very kind and 
 pleasant, exactly as if he were talking to his aunt 
 or his cousin, I made bold to say: "Please ex- 
 cuse me, Mr. Warrington, but don't you think a 
 better way to settle the matter for good and all, 
 would be to make up your quarrel with Geof- 
 frey's mother? I don't believe Andrew would 
 want to harm you if you were good friends again 
 with his sister." 
 
 "I don't think that would be the best way to 
 settle the matter for 'good and all," he an- 
 swered, and he got up from his chair. "I shall 
 send for the detectives at once, and until they 
 arrive, do you keep a close watch. Don't let 
 anyone suspect our secret."
 
 340 SANDPEEP 
 
 Just then his cousin came into the library 
 from the veranda. From the strange way she 
 looked, first at him, and then at me, I knew 
 she had heard his last words. 
 
 "Have you forgotten, Brian, that you chal- 
 lenged me to a game of billiards before din- 
 ner?" she said sharply. 
 
 "No, I was just coming," he answered, and 
 seemed not to mind being spoken to in that way. 
 To me he said, just as pleasantly as he had 
 spoken to her, "I am greatly obliged to you, 
 Miss Brenson. You may rest assured the matter 
 will be attended to at once." 
 
 Then, as I have often seen him do for his aunt 
 and the other ladies in the house, he walked be- 
 side me to the door, opened it, and stood with 
 his hand on the knob until I had passed out of 
 the room. I did not mind his cousin's black 
 looks after that!
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 GEOFFREY and I were on our way to 
 lessons, the next morning, when Miss 
 Warrington came to the door of her sit- 
 ting-room, and said she wanted to speak to me. 
 I sent Geoffrey on to the tower with Bonny and 
 went in. 
 
 "I shall detain you only a few minutes," she 
 began as soon as the door was shut, in a way she 
 had never spoken to me before very short and 
 cross. "I am going to ask you a few questions 
 and I want you to answer them with frankness 
 and truthfulness. What is the private matter 
 you were discussing with my nephew yesterday 
 afternoon in the library?" 
 
 "Mrs. Warrington has been blabbing," I said 
 to myself before I answered: "Please, Miss War- 
 rington, don't ask me, for I can't tell you." 
 
 "You can't tell me? What sort of secret is it 
 you can share with my nephew and not with 
 me?" 
 
 "Really, dear Miss Warrington, I can't tell 
 you." 
 
 She shook her head impatiently, and said: 
 "Then I shall have to ask my nephew. I am 
 greatly disappointed hi you, Miss Brenson, and 
 
 341
 
 342 SANDPEEP 
 
 deeply grieved," she said after a minute, and 
 looked at me in a way that nearly made the 
 tears come to my eyes. "I trusted you entirely, 
 believed you so truthful " 
 
 "You have no call to think me untruthful, 
 Miss Warrington," I interrupted, looking straight 
 at her; "I do not tell lies" - "only to the mas- 
 queraders at the cottage," I added to myself. 
 
 "I do not accuse you of telling lies; only of 
 withholding your confidence from me. It grieves 
 me more than I can say to be forced to change 
 my opinion of you. I hoped to part differently 
 from you." 
 
 "Part from me?" I repeated, and my heart 
 seemed to stop beating for a second. Though 
 I knew she would go away some time, I didn't 
 expect it would be so soon. "Are you going 
 away to-day?" 
 
 "In a few days," she told me. 
 
 "I am very sorry." I had to swallow 
 hard before I could add: "You have been very 
 kind to me; I shall miss you more than I can 
 say. Will Mr. Warrington go with you?" 
 
 "Certainly," she answered, very shortly. 
 
 "I am very glad " 
 
 "Glad?" she interrupted, and looked at me 
 sharply; "you are glad he is going to leave you? 
 My dear child," laying her hand on mine, and 
 speaking more kindly, "I wish you would trust 
 me confide in me."
 
 SANDPEEP 343 
 
 " Please, please, dear Miss Warrington, don't 
 ask me to tell you. I can't I must not I 
 promised I wouldn't." 
 
 "You promised you would not? My dear 
 child," she said again, in the old kind way it 
 made the tears come to my eyes "believe me, 
 I want to be your friend and do what is best for 
 your happiness, now, and in the years to come. 
 You are a young, inexperienced girl, wholly ig- 
 norant of the world and of the ways of the men 
 of the world. Believe me, it is not well for you 
 to have a secret that my nephew may share with 
 you and I may not." 
 
 It was very hard to keep my promise, and I 
 don't know how that painful talk would have 
 ended, if Mr. Warrington had not come into the 
 room. 
 
 "Pardon me, aunt, but Ju and I are ready 
 and waiting for you," he said, after a quick 
 glance toward me. "We shall have to start 
 immediately, if we want to get to the Head- 
 lands before the boat leaves." 
 
 "I will be ready in a moment," she answered, 
 in a way I have never heard her speak to him 
 before. Then she said to me: 
 
 "We will finish our conversation when I re- 
 turn, Miss Brenson." 
 
 Mr. Warrington was leaving the room with me, 
 but his aunt called sharply: 
 
 "I want to speak to you, Brian."
 
 344 SANDPEEP 
 
 He closed the door after me, and I came up 
 to my room, my heart so heavy that my footsteps 
 dragged. 
 
 After luncheon I met Agnes coming toward 
 my room with her sewing-basket and a bundle of 
 rags on her arm. 
 
 "Oh, are you going out already?" she said, 
 and looked greatly disappointed. "I was going 
 to ask you to please show me how to start the 
 rug you told me and Janet about the other 
 day." 
 
 "I can show you in a few minutes; come in," 
 I answered, and went back into my room with 
 her, after I had called to Geoffrey to wait for me 
 on the terrace. 
 
 He was nowhere in sight when, not more than 
 ten minutes later, I ran down to the tower-door. 
 I thought, of course, that he had gone on to the 
 cottage, and hurried after him, calling his name. 
 But no Geoffrey was to be seen or heard, in the 
 avenue or in the lane, nor even a bark, which I 
 thought very strange, for when Bonny and his 
 little master are chasing a rabbit, or a squirrel, 
 there's plenty of noise, barks and shouts! 
 
 "Geoffrey beat me here this time!" I gasped, 
 almost out of breath, when I got to the cottage 
 door, which was wide open. Of course I was 
 sure I should find him there.
 
 SANDPEEP 345 
 
 "He isn't here," Mrs. Makart answered, com- 
 ing out to the stoop. 
 
 "Maybe he is with Andrew in the back yard," 
 I said, getting scared, though I didn't let her 
 see it. 
 
 "Andrew is not at home," she answered, and 
 I could see that she was uneasy, too. "What 
 can have become of my boy?" 
 
 "I dare say he is playing somewhere along the 
 road," I allowed, speaking carelessly. "I'll go 
 back and hunt him up." 
 
 "I will go with you " 
 
 "But you are not well enough," I interrupted, 
 for I would rather have gone without her. 
 
 "I can stand going with you better than I 
 could the waiting here come!" and she was 
 out of the door-yard before I could say another 
 word. We called, and called, and called, stop- 
 ping now and then to listen. Mrs. Makart got 
 so excited, she had to lean on my arm. Her 
 heart beat against it like a trip-hammer. I 
 don't know what she feared. / was sure that 
 Andrew had something to do with the boy's 
 disappearance. 
 
 We met Reuben Wasgott at the Lodge gates, 
 and asked him if he had seen Geoffrey. 
 
 "Yes I see him 'n' the big dog 'bout half 
 'n hour ago, runnin' toward the cliff-path " 
 
 We didn't wait to hear anything more, but ran 
 up the avenue as fast as Mrs. Makart could go.
 
 346 SANDPEEP 
 
 I wanted her to sit down and let me go on by 
 myself, but she held onto my arm. I was afraid 
 every minute she would fall down in a faint or 
 a fit, she breathed so hard and fast. How I 
 managed to get her down the cliff-path without 
 falling, I can't see. I had to half carry her. I 
 was dreadfully scared when I found that the 
 dory wasn't on the beach, for I knew how Geof- 
 frey liked to go out in the "push-boat." I called 
 his name loud as I could scream, but only the 
 echo from the cliff called back: "Geoffrey? 
 Geoffrey?" 
 
 "Oh, Holy Mother of Christ!" Mrs. Makart 
 shrieked suddenly, and pointed toward the water, 
 where, away out, about two miles from the shore, 
 the dory just then rose to the crest of a big wave. 
 We could see two heads in it Geoffrey's and 
 Bonny's, of course. It was all that I could do to 
 prevent Mrs. Makart from jumping into the 
 water. 
 
 "Let me go let me go!" she screamed, and 
 tried to free herself. "Don't you see that he 
 will drown? Oh, God! my baby my baby!" 
 
 "How could you help him, if I let you jump 
 into the water and drown yourself?" I asked, 
 holding her fast, though she struck me with her 
 fists, and even tried to bite my hands. What to 
 do I could not think. The row-boat had been 
 sent to North Haven to be painted, so there was 
 no way to get to the sloop.
 
 SANDPEEP 347 
 
 Never, in all my life, have I heard any human 
 being scream so dreadfully; and all the time she 
 kept beating me with her fists and trying to 
 break away from me. I don't know how much 
 longer I could have stood it if help hadn't come. 
 It was Andrew, who came down the cliff-path 
 in two jumps it seemed to me, and, scared as I 
 was of him, I was thankful when he caught the 
 struggling woman from my arms and clasped her 
 in his own. 
 
 "What have you been trying to do, you hell- 
 cat?" he shouted, and glared at me. 
 
 Before I could tell him what had happened, 
 she threw her arms around his neck, and moaned, 
 "Oh, Andrew! my baby our boy!" 
 
 "What has happened to the boy? What have 
 you done to him?" Andrew asked, and I guess 
 he would have come at me with his fists or a 
 pistol, if he had not had all he could do to hold 
 the fainting woman. 
 
 "I haven't done anything to him; he is out in 
 that dory," I answered, and pointed toward it. 
 
 "Mother of God! Who is with him? where 
 are they taking him? Tell me the truth or I'll 
 
 throttle you, !" Those dashes are the 
 
 dreadful swear words he used. 
 
 "Nobody is with him only Bonny " 
 
 "What?" he shouted it was like the bellow- 
 ing of a bull "Who sent him out there to 
 drown? You?"
 
 348 SANDPEEP 
 
 He came toward me, the woman on one arm, 
 the other raised to strike me. But he didn't; 
 why, I don't know, for I just stood still and 
 looked straight into his fierce eyes. 
 
 "Nobody sent him out there to drown, you 
 bad, wicked man! He went out of his own 
 accord; he ran away from me " 
 
 "You lie ! You sent him, my son, out 
 
 to drown " 
 
 "Your son," I interrupted. "Did you say 
 your son?" 
 
 The part of his face which is not covered 
 by beard, got red as fire, and he bit his lip, 
 before he answered defiantly, I think, is the 
 word to use: 
 
 "Yes, my son! my pride! my idol!" 
 
 "Your very own son?" I asked again, for I 
 could not believe he really meant what he said. 
 
 " Yes yes yes I my son, and not that 
 damned aristocrat's up yonder. You had no 
 need to murder the boy, you she-devil! he isn't 
 the son of your lover " 
 
 "You say what isn't true," I interrupted; and 
 I let him see I was offended. "I wouldn't harm 
 the boy for the world, and Mr. Warrington is 
 not my lover. If you will tell me the truth 
 and swear that the boy is your own son, I will 
 try to save him." 
 
 "Oh, yes, you'll save him!" he snarled, just 
 like an angry dog with a bone.
 
 SANDPEEP 349 
 
 "Yes, I will. I will try, anyway, and I think I 
 can do it. But you must tell first: Is Geoffrey 
 really and truly your son your own flesh and 
 blood?" 
 
 " Yes yes yes ! " 
 
 " Swear it!" 
 
 "I swear it, by God in heaven; by all the 
 devils in hell!" he said, holding up his hand. 
 
 "Then who is she?" pointing toward Mrs. 
 Makart. 
 
 "My wife." 
 
 "Fwrwife?" 
 
 "Yes I swear it! Save our boy, and we 
 will make a clean breast of everything; only 
 save the boy, if you can!" 
 
 "I must know something more before I risk 
 my life to save your son," I said firmly. "If 
 this woman is your wife, where is Mr. Warring- 
 ton's wife?" 
 
 "She is dead," he answered, after a look at 
 the dory, which was only a black spot on the 
 water then. 
 
 "Really and truly?" 
 
 "Mother of God! Yes yes, I swear it! She 
 and her baby died the same day. She was my 
 Lina's twin sister. Now you know everything; 
 save my boy, and I will give you a sworn state- 
 ment that what I have told you is true. But," 
 and he shook his fist in my face, "don't you 
 come back without him!"
 
 350 SANDPEEP 
 
 While talking to him, I had planned what to 
 do. I began at once to roll the drift-log which 
 was lying on the shore toward the water. When 
 he saw what I was about, he laid the unconscious 
 woman on a tangle of beach-peas and drift, and 
 came to help me. 
 
 "You don't intend to paddle after the boat on 
 that log, do you?" he asked when it was in the 
 water, and I had begun to take off my shoes 
 and stockings. 
 
 "Yes I do," I answered, and I picked up a 
 piece of board lying near " Now, please turn 
 your back toward me." 
 
 He did so; I waded into the water and got 
 a-straddle of the log. Lucky for me it was big 
 and heavy, or I don't know if I could have pad- 
 dled out to the sloop on it. 
 
 "Damn my soul! if you aren't a brave 
 wench!" I heard Andrew exclaim, before I was 
 half way to the sloop. He was too curious to 
 see what I was doing to keep his back turned 
 toward me. 
 
 It did not take very long, though I was 
 afraid every minute the log would roll over, and 
 tumble me into the water, to get to the sloop, 
 and hoist sail. The wind was in the right direc- 
 tion to carry me out to sea, and away I sailed, 
 away out, past the ledges, after the black speck 
 among the waves, which grew larger the farther 
 I sailed from shore. Both wind and current were
 
 SANDPEEP 351 
 
 in my favor, and I felt certain I could save the 
 boy, if he would only keep still in the bottom of 
 the dory. If he should try to stand up or move 
 about, though the boat was riding the waves like 
 a buoy, there would be danger of his tilting over- 
 board. So I could only hope he was too sea- 
 sick to do anything but lie flat in the bottom of 
 the dory. If I had not caught up with him, I 
 should have continued to sail on, far enough, 
 anyhow, to be safe from Andrew's fists and 
 pistol. I knew very well what would happen to 
 me if I went back without the boy! 
 
 After what seemed hours and hours, I got 
 close enough to see that the boy and his dog 
 were lying in the bottom, both too sick to pay 
 attention to the flapping sail when I stopped to 
 hook the painter. Only Bonny opened his eyes 
 for a second, too sick to wag his tail. Geoffrey 
 was white as chalk. 
 
 The sea was too rough to change him to the 
 sloop, so I towed the dory back to the cove. I 
 had to tack often, for wind and tide were against 
 me now; but I did not care how long it might 
 take to get back. I had what I had come for, 
 and my heart was singing, "Hallelujah to the 
 Lord!" I was so thankful, not only that the 
 boy was safe, but because I knew Miss Warring- 
 ton would find out all about the "secret," and 
 would be good friends with me again, and Mr. 
 Warrington would be safe from Andrew, and free
 
 352 SANDPEEP 
 
 to marry his cousin. I am not so sure that I 
 was thankful for that! 
 
 When I sailed around Surgecliff, Andrew and 
 his wife were standing side by side near the 
 water. "He is all right," I called to them 
 through my hands, and I did not look toward 
 shore again until the sloop was at her anchorage. 
 Then I saw that the woman was alone, and with- 
 out the gray wig and blue specs. 
 
 "Why, Mrs. Makart, or whatever your name is 
 now," I said, when I had run the dory up on to the 
 beach, "you haven't got on your wig and specs." 
 
 "No, and I don't intend to put them on ever 
 again," she answered decidedly. "See how my 
 boy looks at me! At last the dear angel knows 
 me." She caught him in her arms when he 
 jumped toward her, crying: "Petite maman! 
 Petite mamml" and she nearly smothered him 
 with kisses. 
 
 When she was done kissing him, he looked all 
 around him, as if he expected to see someone 
 else. "Mon cher papa?" he said, and looked up 
 at her. "I want to see mon cher papa, too. I 
 come back over the big water to see hims and 
 Gerry and Tulips." 
 
 "Wait wait, only a little while, my an^l," 
 she answered, kissing him again. "You shall 
 see the dear papa, and Gerry and your beautiful 
 Tulips, very soon. Very soon you shall ride 
 with Gerry on Tulips "
 
 SANDPEEP 353 
 
 "And hims will stand on his back legs, so," he 
 interrupted, his eyes shining like stars; and he 
 stood on his toes and stretched his arms above 
 his head, "and mon chcr papa will jump, away 
 high up; and Gerry will stand on Tulips' s back, 
 and jump through fire; and petite ttMnuin will 
 dance on Tulips' s back yes yes I come 
 back over the big water to see hims." 
 
 I had never heard him make such a long 
 speech. He talked so fast and his eyes sparkled 
 so that he did not look like the same dull boy; 
 and no one who had seen him then would have 
 doubted that he was Mrs. Makart's son, he 
 looked so exactly like her. I dare say it is be- 
 cause the boy is so like his mother that Mr. 
 Warrington, who believes Mrs. Makart is his wife 
 and dislikes her so much, does not seem as fond 
 of him as most fathers are of their children. 
 
 "The dear angel really believes he has crossed 
 the ocean again," his mother allowed, and looked 
 fondly at the delighted boy. "After all your 
 trouble to make him forget, you have not suc- 
 ceeded. He has not forgotten his petite w<im<i, 
 who dances on the back of a galloping horse, or 
 his dear papa, who makes the wonderful leaps 
 from the trapeze" - I had to hunt up that word 
 in the dictionary before I understood why An- 
 drew's "leaps" were wonderful "or his uncle 
 Gerry, who jumps through fiery hoops. He has 
 forgotten nothing, my brave, beautiful Gervase -
 
 354 SANDPEEP 
 
 "Yes yes!" he interrupted, clapping his 
 hands and jumping about, "Gervase, Gervase 
 
 not Geoffrey me Gervase yes yes." 
 She kissed and hugged him again; then I 
 
 asked her if Andrew was really her husband. 
 
 "He is, indeed, really my own dear husband, 
 the most daring and celebrated performer on the 
 trapeze in the world! He is my husband, and 
 Gervase is our boy. I don't care who knows it 
 now. I don't want any more of Mr. Warring- 
 ton's money; it only made me unhappy. Now, 
 
 oh, I am so happy! I have got back my 
 precious baby." 
 
 "Tell me something about your twin sister 
 did she really die?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, poor dear Angela is dead, and so is her 
 dear little baby boy. My poor, broken-hearted 
 sister! But don't ask me any more questions 
 now, dear, good, brave Miss Brenson. After I 
 am rested I am so weak and faint now after 
 my terrible fright I will tell you everything, 
 and the truth! Now, I must go to the cottage. 
 Come, my angel." 
 
 "But," I interrupted, "what shall I tell Mr. 
 Warrington ? " 
 
 "Nothing nothing yet! Wait, I will tell him 
 myself, this evening. Tell him to come to the 
 cottage after he has had his dinner, and he shall 
 hear everything." 
 
 "Will Andrew be there?"
 
 SANDPEEP 355 
 
 "Yes, and my brother, Gervase all of us. 
 We shall have much to tell Mr. Warrington - 
 much to ask forgiveness for. We will pay back 
 all the money he gave us, but in time in time. 
 We shall have to work for it first." 
 
 "Very well," I said, "I'll tell him you want 
 him to call this evening, after dinner. But I 
 really think you ought to let the boy go with 
 me to the Lodge " 
 
 "No," she interrupted, putting her arm around 
 him and holding him close, "I will not let him 
 go out of my sight again! They will not miss 
 him at the Lodge. You can make some excuse 
 if they do. He shall not go there again!" 
 
 We were walking toward the cliff-path when I 
 spied the wig lying beside a rock, looking for 
 all the world like a gray pussy-cat snuggled 
 among the wrack. I picked it up, and said: 
 "Don't you want to take this with you?" 
 
 "No, hateful thing!" snatching it from my 
 hand and tossing it into the water. "No more 
 disguises no more cheating for me!" 
 
 She didn't look very weak the way she hurried 
 up the cliff-path, half dragging, half carrying the 
 boy. I followed more slowly, and when I got 
 to the top they were already out of sight. It 
 was well she could go so fast, for it was begin- 
 ning to rain hard. 
 
 I came up to my cozy room so soon to be 
 mine no longer! How I shall miss everything in
 
 356 SANDPEEP 
 
 it when I am back in my closet at home! And 
 that blessed piano! I wish it were mine to take 
 with me; but there isn't room for it in the house. 
 I should have to keep it in the hen-pen! 
 
 Well, I shall have something to think about in 
 the long winter evenings. The memory of my 
 days at the Lodge will be like a pleasant dream, 
 a bit of sunshine among gray clouds; sweet 
 music in the storm; the clear song of a swamp- 
 robin among the hoarse caw-caws of crows.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 I WAS telling secrets to my faithful book yes- 
 terday evening, when Janet came to my 
 room for Geoffrey. I told her he would 
 have to stay with Mrs. Makart until Malston 
 went for him with the buggy, as it was raining 
 too hard for him to walk home. 
 
 "I am afraid his father will not like your leav- 
 ing him at the cottage, Miss," she said. 
 
 "Has Mr. Warrington come back yet?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "Yes, Miss, just a few minutes ago. They 
 got a good drenching. If I were you, Miss, I 
 would not say anything about Master Geoffrey 
 staying at the cottage. If it rains too hard for 
 him to come home this evening, you can fetch 
 him in the morning before any of the family are 
 up. Miss Warrington won't miss him, for she's 
 gone to bed with a sick headache; and you may 
 be sure," she added, and laughed slyly, "that 
 his father and the pretty widow won't miss him, 
 either." 
 
 "Very well," I said, pretending I agreed with 
 her, "if Malston does not fetch him home this 
 evening, I will do as you say." "By morning," 
 I said to myself, "everybody will know why 
 
 357
 
 358 SANDPEEP 
 
 'Master Geoffrey' is not at the Lodge." When I 
 explained to the housekeeper, she said I had done 
 well to leave him at the cottage until the storm 
 was over; so there was only Mr. Warrington to 
 be told, and I went straight from Mrs. Gilbert's 
 room to the front hall, to give him Mrs. Makart's 
 message when he should come from the dining- 
 room. I had to wait a long time. I could hear 
 him and his cousin talk and laugh, and knew 
 they were not bothering their heads about the 
 missing boy. 
 
 At last the dining-room door opened, but only 
 Mrs. Warrington came out. She stopped in the 
 door to say: "Now, don't let your cigar keep 
 you long, Brian; I want my revenge for that 
 game you won last night." I hoped she would 
 not notice me in the dark corner beside the 
 clock, but she did, and asked what I was 
 waiting for. I told her I had a message for 
 Mr. Warrington. 
 
 "You seem to have a good many messages for 
 Mr. Warrington," she allowed, and added: "My 
 good girl, I advise you to take your messages to 
 Miss Warrington. I should like to believe, as 
 she does, that it is through ignorance you force 
 yourself upon the notice of gentlemen in so 
 shameless a manner, but I cannot I have seen 
 too much " 
 
 Just then the door at the back of the hall 
 opened, and the head coachman came in, rain-
 
 SANDPEEP 359 
 
 water streaming from his hat and rubber coat. 
 Almost at the same moment Mr. Warrington 
 came from the dining-room, and said: 
 
 "What is it, Donald? James says you want 
 to speak to me on important business." 
 
 "I do, sir. I hope you will excuse me for 
 disturbing you while at dinner, but I think you 
 ought to know that Malston has gone. He has 
 not been at the stables since noon." 
 
 "He may be at the cottage, ill." 
 
 "No, sir, he isn't there. I sent William to 
 see as soon as I found that the bays were not in 
 their stalls" 
 
 "The bays?" exclaimed Mr. Warrington, the 
 wrinkle showing above his nose. 
 
 "Yes, sir, they and the road-wagon are gone, 
 and there isn't anybody at the cottage " 
 
 "Nobody at the cottage?" I interrupted, too 
 excited to mind Mrs. Warrington's stare. "Are 
 you sure there isn't anybody there?" . 
 
 "Quite sure, Miss," Donald answered respect- 
 fully, though I could see he was surprised at my 
 meddling. "William knocked several times and 
 tried the door. It wasn't locked, but there was 
 no light, and nobody in the house." 
 
 "I have no doubt," Mr. Warrington allowed, 
 after a quick look toward me, " that Malston 
 took advantage of our absence this afternoon, to 
 give his sister an outing, and is detained some- 
 where by this storm."
 
 360 SANDPEEP 
 
 "That may be, sir/' Donald said, "but it isn't 
 at all like him to take a team without asking 
 leave." 
 
 "When was William at the cottage?" I asked, 
 and if looks could hurt, Mrs. Warrington's cer- 
 tainly would have done something to me. But I 
 had too much else to think of to mind. 
 
 "He came back just a few minutes ago, Miss." 
 Then, before I could say what was on my tongue, 
 he turned to Mr. Warrington. "Don't you think, 
 sir, I had better send a man to the Headlands to 
 make inquiries?" 
 
 Mr. Warrington thought a minute, before an- 
 swering: "If Malston is not at the stables when 
 you go back, saddle Orion, and a horse for your- 
 self, and we will ride to the cottage. We may 
 find something there, a note, perhaps, that will 
 explain this unusual proceeding." 
 
 "You surely don't mean to go out in this dread- 
 ful rain, Brian!" Mrs. Warrington exclaimed, 
 looking at him as if he were a sick child that 
 a wetting would hurt. 
 
 "Yes, I must, Ju," he answered, and, when 
 Donald had gone: "This is a matter of too 
 much importance to wait until the storm is over." 
 
 To me he said in the same kind way he had 
 spoken to her: "Perhaps you know something 
 about- Malston, Miss Brenson?" 
 
 "I don't know where he has gone, sir," I 
 answered, and I looked at him in a way that
 
 SANDPEEP 361 
 
 was meant to tell him I had found out something 
 else. He understood, and said: 
 
 "You may speak. We cannot keep the matter 
 a secret any longer." 
 
 Without minding Mrs. Warrington, who was 
 looking from me to her cousin in a way I don't 
 know how to describe, I said: 
 
 "I have been waiting here a long time to give 
 you a message from the woman at the cottage 
 she wants you to call there this evening and 
 to tell you that I let the boy go home with her." 
 
 "You allowed Geoffrey to go with that 
 woman?" he repeated. "Was that obeying my 
 orders, Miss Brenson?" 
 
 "No, sir; but you will understand why I dis- 
 obeyed you when you go to the cottage. The 
 woman and Andrew will tell you everything." 
 
 "Didn't you just hear Donald say there was 
 no one there?" he asked sharply, the wrinkle 
 above his nose showing again. "After the strict 
 orders I gave you concerning my son, why did 
 you take it upon yourself to let him go with 
 that woman?" 
 
 "If I hadn't been quite sure that he isn't your 
 son, sir, I should not have disobeyed your orders." 
 
 "Not my son? What do you mean?" Oh, but 
 he did look cross! 
 
 "The boy, whose name is Gervase, instead of 
 Geoffrey, is the son of the woman at the cottage 
 all right, but you are not his father "
 
 362 SANDPEEP 
 
 " Brian Warrington!" interrupted his cousin, 
 impatiently, "what is the girl talking about? 
 How comes she to know so much more about 
 your private affairs than we your own family? 
 Who is the woman at the cottage?" 
 
 "She is Malston's sister," he told her, "and 
 my unhappy wife " 
 
 "Please excuse me, sir," I interrupted, "she 
 isn't your wife!' 
 
 "Miss Brenson," speaking as if he, too, were 
 all out of patience, "your statements differ so 
 entirely, I am at a loss how to understand 
 them. Only yesterday you assured me the 
 woman was my wife." 
 
 "And so I believed myself, yesterday; but 
 to-day I found out that she is Andrew's wife - 
 
 "Who in the name of heaven is Andrew?" 
 Mrs. Warrington interrupted. "What does all 
 this unintelligible chatter mean?" 
 
 "Have patience, cousin!" Mr. Warrington an- 
 swered in his usual tone. "The secret Miss 
 Brenson and I have been keeping from you and 
 Aunt Elinor will soon be explained satisfacto- 
 rily to both of you. I would have preferred to 
 let you remain in ignorance of it, but justice to 
 myself, as well as to Miss Brenson, to whom I 
 am indebted for more than I can ever hope to 
 repay, compels me to share it with you. When I 
 return from the cottage, you shall hear it." To 
 me he said:
 
 SANDPEEP 363 
 
 "From whom did you learn that the woman 
 is Andrew's wife?" 
 
 "Shall I tell all I know?" I asked, after a 
 meaning glance toward his cousin. 
 
 He said "yes," and in as few words as possible 
 I told him how the woman and I had gone down 
 to the shore to look for the boy; how Andrew 
 had followed us when he heard her scream so 
 dreadfully, and how I had forced him, when he 
 believed the boy would be lost, to tell me the 
 truth 
 
 "I wish I could believe he told you the truth!" 
 Mr. Warrington interrupted, oh, so earnestly! 
 
 "You may believe it, sir," I assured him. 
 "You would, I know, if you had seen how nearly 
 out of his mind he was. I think he would have 
 killed me, if he had not believed I could save 
 the boy. Because he believed it, he told me the 
 truth when I said I wouldn't save him unless he 
 did. He swore that the boy was his own son; 
 that the woman at the cottage was his wife, and 
 twin sister to to Angela." 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Warrington, "I see! I 
 understand! Twin sisters! and I have been too 
 stupid ever to suspect it. But the resemblance 
 the resemblance is wonderful! That is why 
 I was so easily deceived." 
 
 "Anybody would have been deceived," I al- 
 lowed. " I saw a photograph of Mrs. Makart and 
 her sister at the cottage and believed that both
 
 364 SANDPEEP 
 
 were pictures of Mrs. Makart, they are so exactly 
 alike! I have heard Malston and Andrew call 
 the woman 'Lina,' which must be short for 
 'Angeline,' one of the names written on the 
 back of the photograph. The other is 'Angela.' ' 
 
 " Madame Angeline! the name of the eques- 
 trienne!" Mr. Warrington said, more to himself 
 than to me. "And Malston is Marcinet, Gervase 
 Marcinet, of course ! I recognize him now under 
 his disguise. What a dolt I have been a blind, 
 stupid dolt ! Miss Brenson, ' ' suddenly catching 
 my hand in both his "how am I ever to thank 
 you enough ? how repay all that you have done 
 for me?" 
 
 He gave my hand a warm little squeeze before 
 he let it go; and before I could answer him, 
 walked to the front door and peered out into the 
 storm to see if Donald were there with the horses. 
 
 Mrs. Warrington Was sitting in one of the high- 
 backed hall-chairs, looking like a queen on her 
 throne, with the diamonds on her bare neck 
 glittering like the stars on a frosty night, and 
 more red in her cheeks than I'd ever seen there 
 before. Her eyes were fixed on her cousin, and 
 I wished I could read her mind, her face puzzled 
 me so. I didn't have time to puzzle over her long, 
 for Mr. Warrington shut the door and came back. 
 
 "How did you get to the sloop?" he asked 
 suddenly. "There was no small boat on the 
 beach. "
 
 SANDPEEP 365 
 
 "No, sir," smiling at thought of the figure I 
 must have cut, a-straddle of the log. "I pad- 
 dled out to it on a drift-log, and after I was 
 in the sloop it was easy enough to sail after 
 the dory." 
 
 "Wasn't the sea very rough? I thought the 
 wind almost a gale about that time." 
 
 "It was blowing hard when I came in. The 
 water was too rough when I caught up with 
 the dory to change the boy to the sloop; so I 
 towed him in, which was easy enough, with the 
 boy and Bonny lying in the bottom of the dory, 
 too seasick to stir!" 
 
 "I wonder what you wouldn't think 'easy 
 enough' to do for your fellow creatures, you 
 brave, splendid girl!" he said, so earnestly that 
 the blood just poured into my face and neck; 
 even my ears felt hot. I was going to stammer 
 thanks for the kind words, but Mrs. Warrington 
 hindered me: 
 
 "Brian, I am consumed with curiosity!" she 
 complained. "Do tell me as much as you 
 can, before the horses come, about this most 
 extraordinary affair " 
 
 "There they are, now," he interrupted, and 
 we could hear hoofs beat on the gravel outside. 
 "Have patience a little longer and you shall hear 
 everything." 
 
 He went to the back of the hall, where there's 
 a closet for coats and hats and umbrellas, and
 
 366 SANDPEEP 
 
 while he was putting on a rubber coat, I went 
 close to him to say what I didn't want his cousin 
 to hear: 
 
 "Please excuse me, Mr. Warrington, but don't 
 you think William had better go with you, too?" 
 
 "Don't you think you would be a better body- 
 guard than William and Donald?" he said in the 
 same low voice, smiling at me. 
 
 I knew he was making fun of me, so I an- 
 swered in a like manner: 
 
 "I should certainly put on an oilskin coat and 
 rubber boots, and run after you with a lantern, 
 if you were going alone!" 
 
 "I believe you would!" he answered heartily. 
 Then he went back to his cousin, and said to 
 her: 
 
 "Don't say anything to Aunt Elinor, Ju. Wait 
 until I return, and I will tell you both every- 
 thing." Then he went out into the storm, and 
 rode away with Donald down the avenue. 
 
 I was walking toward the stairs, when Mrs. 
 Warrington said, just as if she were giving an 
 order to one of the help: 
 
 "Come into the library, Miss Brenson, I have 
 something to say to you." 
 
 When we were in the library, she sat down, 
 but as she didn't ask me to take a chair, too, I 
 remained standing in front of her. 
 
 "Tell me," she said, "just what you did to 
 make my cousin imagine you saved his life?
 
 SANDPEEP 367 
 
 You must know that everything which concerns 
 him is of interest to me. " 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," I said, then told her what I 
 had done to hinder a meeting between Mr. War- 
 rington and Andrew on the North Haven road. 
 
 "You were certainly very bold," she allowed, 
 when I had told her. 
 
 " Bold ? " I repeated, not knowing how to under 
 stand the word. "We Cove folks call anyone 
 'bold' that's forward and impudent - 
 
 "That is what I meant," she interrupted. "I 
 could not use a milder word to describe such an 
 act. It was very unwomanly, and I can't con- 
 ceive how any modest girl could have done what 
 you say you did." 
 
 "Mr. Warrington is kind enough to say it 
 saved his life," I allowed; and I let her see I 
 was offended. 
 
 "He is too courteous. Don't interrupt me 
 when I opened my lips to speak. "I take this 
 opportunity to tell you how necessary it is for a 
 girl in your position to conduct herself more 
 modestly, and to avoid, instead of seek, the ad- 
 miration of men above her in station. They 
 only laugh at you, believe me, my good girl. No 
 man admires boldness; it only disgusts him. My 
 cousin is sorry for you, because he is an honor- 
 able man," she went on to tell me, and I had to 
 stand there and listen to her, my cheeks hot. 
 Angry tears were under my eyelids, but I winked
 
 368 SANDPEEP 
 
 them back; I wasn't going to let her see how 
 much she hurt me. "It is very fortunate for you 
 that he is an honorable gentleman, as well as a 
 man of the world, for we all admit it ! you 
 are a very pretty girl, and all men admire beauty. 
 I take the trouble to speak to you because my 
 aunt was so interested in you before you began 
 to take liberties " 
 
 "Please, Mrs. Warrington," I made bold to 
 interrupt "in what way have I taken liberties? 
 I'm sure I never meant to." 
 
 "Every time you speak to my cousin or any of 
 the gentlemen, without being spoken to first, is 
 taking a liberty," she answered sharply. "My 
 aunt, I must say, is in a measure to blame for 
 your forward behavior. She was so amused and 
 attracted when you first came here, by what she 
 called your artlessness, that she foolishly per- 
 mitted you to imagine your position here above 
 that of the ordinary servants. That she regrets 
 her mistake now, I know; and she will be greatly 
 relieved when she learns that your services will 
 no longer be required." 
 
 "Did Miss Warrington tell you she was going 
 to dismiss me?" I asked. 
 
 "Certainly; she has become convinced that 
 such a course is necessary." 
 
 "Because you 'told her you heard Mr. War- 
 rington talk secrets with me in the library," I 
 said, real impudently.
 
 SANDPEEP 369 
 
 "You are impertinent, as well as bold, Miss 
 Brenson," she answered, very lofty as if she 
 were talking down from a tall steeple. "But I 
 will overlook your rudeness; and, out of pity for 
 you, spare you the humiliation of a dismissal 
 from my aunt. You may go home early to- 
 morrow morning before she and cousin are 
 up, I should advise. I will order an early break- 
 fast for you, and a wagon to take you home. I 
 will explain your sudden departure to my aunt, 
 and ask my cousin to send you a suitable reward 
 for what you have done for him, and, of course, 
 the wages due you. Now, you had better go at 
 once to bed, as you will have to rise very early. 
 The wagon will be at the back door at five 
 o'clock; don't keep it waiting." 
 
 She got up from her chair and I followed her 
 up the stairs. She went into Miss Warrington's 
 sitting-room, and I dragged my heavy feet on 
 up to the tower.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 I DREW back the window-curtain in my room 
 mine no longer, alas! and peered through 
 the pane ; rain was still beating against it, but 
 the clouds were breaking in the northwest sky. 
 Clear weather wasn't far off. 
 
 "I'll not wait till morning," I said to myself, 
 when I saw the rifts between the clouds. "I'll 
 go home right now. I don't want to see any of 
 them again, any more than they want to see 
 me. I'll just leave a little note for Miss War- 
 rington, thanking her for her kindness, and go." 
 The little clock on the bureau said nine o'clock, 
 but I didn't mind. Of course aunt would be in 
 bed and sound asleep; but the door wouldn't 
 be locked, and morning would be soon enough 
 to tell her bad news that I had lost my 
 good chance, and had come home to stop for 
 good and all. 
 
 The few things belonging to me were soon 
 gathered up and wrapped in a newspaper. I 
 took none of the little ornaments Miss Warring 
 ton had given me to make my room look "more 
 homelike" - as if my little closet-room at home 
 had such pretty things in it for I wasn't sure 
 she meant me to keep them. Then I wrote a 
 
 370
 
 SANDPEEP 371 
 
 note to her, thanking her and bidding her good- 
 bye, folded it, wrote her name on the back of it 
 and left it on the table, where it would be seen 
 by the first person who should come into the 
 room. Then I took up my bundle and stole 
 down the tower stairs. No need now to lock the 
 door at the foot! I stopped on the terrace steps 
 to look up at the windows of Miss Warrington's. 
 room. Just then she came to one of them, 
 opened it and looked out. "It isn't raining 
 quite so hard now," I heard her say, "but it is a 
 nasty night for him to be out. I can't imagine 
 what has taken him to the cottage at this hour 
 and in such weather." 
 
 Then the window closed, and I believed I had 
 seen the last of my dear fairy godmother I 
 like to call her that to myself sometimes. As 
 there wasn't anyone to see or hear me, I let my- 
 self cry like a baby, as I ran down the avenue, 
 "boo-hoo, boo-hoo," like the wind among the 
 trees. 
 
 Though it was still raining quite hard, the 
 moon behind the clouds made light enough for 
 me to see where I was going. I was near the 
 gateway when I heard the horses coming down 
 the lane, and stepped to the side of the road to 
 be out of the light of Donald's lantern. He was 
 saying as they passed by me: "You may as well 
 try to get a few hours' sleep, sir. We need not 
 start until four o'clock."
 
 372 SANDPEEP 
 
 That is all I heard, but it was enough to tell 
 me that he and Mr. Warrington were going 
 somewhere early the next morning after the 
 runaways, of course. I was truly thankful that 
 the "masqueraders" at the cottage had gone. 
 
 It was lucky for me that a team going toward 
 North Haven caught up with me before I had 
 gone far from the Lodge gates. It was a wagon, 
 with several big boxes in it, and as I did not 
 want the driver to see me, I climbed up behind 
 the boxes, and was hauled to the Cove-road 
 without having to say "thank you for the ride" 
 when I got down. 
 
 I stole through the shed into the kitchen to 
 my closet, where I lighted the candle. Then I 
 closed the door of the spare-chamber and hung 
 the quilt off my bed over it, so that not a speck 
 of light could get in to aunt, and waken her. 
 
 I made a fire in the stove to dry my wet clothes 
 and shoes, and because I knew there was no use 
 in going to bed, as I could not have shut my 
 eyes, I opened my bundle to get my French 
 lesson-book, the only thing I had brought away 
 from the Lodge; but I could hardly see, my eyes 
 ached so. I sat staring at the candle for a while, 
 then I folded my arms on the table in front of 
 me, laid my face on them and cried so hard that 
 I did not hear someone come into the kitchen, 
 until a hand was laid on my shoulder and Mr. 
 Warrington' s voice said, close to my ear: "Miss
 
 SANDPEEP 373 
 
 Brenson, my dear girl! what has happened? 
 I knocked several times," he told me, when I 
 looked up at him, "but you did not hear me, 
 and finding the door unlocked, I took the liberty 
 to come in." 
 
 "It wasn't a liberty," I said dreadfully 
 ashamed that he had caught me bawling like a 
 great baby "and nothing has happened. I 
 was crying because because I hadn't anything 
 else to do, and oh, Mr. Warrington, I am so 
 very unhappy," and I went to crying again. 
 
 He took off his rain-coat, hung it over a chair, 
 sat down beside me, and waited until I had 
 had my "hush-up cry"; then, while I was dry- 
 ing my eyes, he said in a joking way, to help 
 quiet me: 
 
 "I have come all the way from the Lodge, 
 through the rain, to scold you for running away 
 in such a storm! If you were too eager to 
 get away from us, to wait until morning, why 
 didn't you wait until I returned from the 
 cottage? Aren't you curious to hear what 
 I found there?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, I should like to know. I came 
 home because I am not needed at the Lodge 
 any more. I left a note for Miss Warrington 
 in my in the tower-room." 
 
 "She has it," he answered, and the wrinkle 
 showed between his eyebrows for a second; then 
 he looked pleasant again and added: "And so
 
 374 SANDPEEP 
 
 you think that, because danger has ceased to 
 threaten the owner of the Lodge, you are not 
 needed there?" 
 
 "Not exactly that, sir. I thought a governess 
 wasn't needed, now that there is no scholar. 
 Have all the people gone from the cottage?" 
 
 "Yes; not even Bonny was left behind. I 
 found nothing but the furniture, and this," 
 he took a folded paper from his breast-pocket 
 and handed it to me. As nearly as I can 
 remember, this is what was written on the 
 paper : 
 
 " All the legal particulars concerning the death of 
 Mrs. Brian Warrington and her baby son, Geoffrey, 
 may be learned from Father Bertolon, cure of St. 
 Ann's, Languedoc. 
 
 " Angeline Troubeton (born Marcinet), twin sister 
 of Angela Warrington, and wife of Andre Troubeton, 
 begs Mr. Warrington to forgive her for deceiving him, 
 by letting him believe her his wife Angela, and her 
 son, Gervase (son of Andre" Troubeton), his and 
 Angela's son, Geoffrey. 
 
 " Angeline Troubeton swears that the large sum of 
 money Mr. Warrington gave her when she allowed 
 him to take her son from her will be returned to 
 him in time. 
 
 " Signed, GERVASE MARCINET. 
 
 " Known at Surgecliff Lodge as Robley Malston." 
 
 "And they have really gone for good?" I 
 said, handing back the note. 
 
 "They have gone, but whether for good or 
 evil, I cannot say. To convince myself that 
 what this note states is true, I am going abroad
 
 SANDPEEP 375 
 
 to see the priest mentioned. I sail from New 
 York the day after to-morrow." 
 
 "I should think you would first try to catch 
 those dreadful story-tellers, and do something to 
 them for cheating you," I allowed. 
 
 "I am too glad to be rid of them and too 
 heartily ashamed of my stupidity to wish to pun- 
 ish them," he answered. "All I want now is 
 proof that what is written here is true. Now I 
 must explain why I am here at this late hour. 
 Of course, I did not like the idea of going away 
 without bidding my brave little friend good-bye; 
 but what really brought me was the desire to 
 hear you say that you will agree to what my 
 aunt will propose when she comes to see you 
 to-morrow - 
 
 "Is Miss Warrington really and truly coming 
 to see me?" I interrupted. 
 
 "Yes, and" 
 
 "Isn't she displeased with me any more?" I 
 interrupted a second time, quite forgetting my 
 manners, I was so delighted. 
 
 "No, she is not displeased with you, as you 
 will be convinced when you see her. Will you 
 promise to do what she will ask?" 
 
 "Why, yes, sir, of course, if it is something I 
 can do." 
 
 "Your hand on it!" holding out his hand, 
 and pretending to be very sober, though I could 
 see a smile in his eyes and under his moustache.
 
 376 SANDPEEP 
 
 I laid my hand in his for a second, and when 
 he let go of it, I held it up so that the pretty 
 stone on the finger showed like a star in the 
 candle-light. 
 
 "Don't you remember this ring, sir?" I asked. 
 "Angela gave it to me that morning her 
 wedding-day. She said it would bring me good 
 luck." 
 
 "Has it brought you good luck?" 
 
 "Yes after a long wait." 
 
 "Then continue to have faith in the moon- 
 stone! Now I must be off, for I have still much 
 to do before I start on my long journey. Good- 
 bye, dear little friend," taking my hand again for 
 a second. "Say good-bye to your aunt for me." 
 
 "Sha'n't I ever see you again?" I asked, tak- 
 ing up the candle, to light him from the door. 
 
 "You certainly shall, if we both live and if 
 you keep your promise." 
 
 "I will keep it, you may be sure!" I answered 
 heartily. When he opened the door, a strong 
 draft swept through the house, and played a 
 tune on the silk thread aunt keeps stretched 
 across the loft window-sill, because it makes her 
 believe I am at home! He stopped in the door- 
 way and said: 
 
 "I could almost believe this stormy evening, 
 and that other, years ago, the same but for 
 this tall girl," -laying his hand for a second on 
 my shoulder "and the memory of so much
 
 SANDPEEP 377 
 
 that is unpleasant. Good-bye again, and God 
 bless you!" 
 
 I held the candle above my head to light Orion 
 out of the door-yard. When he was outside 
 the gate, Mr. Warrington called, " Thank you, 
 good-night and good-bye." Then the darkness 
 swallowed up horse and rider.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 FROM Miss Elinor Warrington, Surgecliff 
 Lodge, to Dr. Lemuel J. Parke, on board 
 the Nautilus, Gibraltar. 
 
 "My DEAR COUSIN, 
 
 "As the hasty note Brian wrote you before he 
 sailed from New York (three days ago), could con- 
 tain only the briefest mention of what has hap- 
 pened here in the past week, I send you herewith 
 a detailed account of the most extraordinary occur- 
 rences. 
 
 "First, however, I think you and Brian entertain 
 a very low opinion of my discretion, as well as of 
 my 'nerves,' to have believed it necessary to keep 
 me in ignorance of the danger which threatened 
 Brian, if not all of us, for weeks, from the ruffian 
 you two wise men were credulous enough to believe 
 the brother of the dancing-woman! Had you al- 
 lowed me to share your secret, instead of sharing it 
 only with Keren, I should not now be forced to 
 lament my unkindness toward that bravest and 
 most innocent of maidens. 
 
 "Just think, Lem, I was cruel enough to con- 
 demn your protegee as an artful and designing minx, 
 when all the while she was our guardian angel, if 
 you can imagine an angel in a cheap cotton gown, 
 and coarse boots! 
 
 "Brian's letter will have informed you of his visit 
 to the cottage in the wood that stormy evening, and 
 of the flight of the precious trio of cheats and cut- 
 throats together with the poor little stupid lad ; 
 we were all even more stupid for believing he had 
 Warrington blood in his veins. 
 
 378
 
 SANDPEEP 379 
 
 "I was left wholly in ignorance of the nature of 
 Brian's errand to the cottage, until he returned, 
 though Juliet had learned something of it from a 
 conversation between him and Keren, before he 
 started. To spare my nerves I was left to puzzle 
 my old head over my laddie's unusual behavior, 
 until he came back and told me what I ought to 
 have known all along. 
 
 "He came up to my room directly he returned 
 from the cottage and inquired for Keren, looking 
 about him as if he had expected to find her with 
 me. 
 
 " 'She is in her room, most likely,' I answered, 
 very coldly. 
 
 "He rang for James, whom he bade ask Miss 
 Brenson to come to Miss Warrington's sitting-room 
 for a few minutes! 
 
 " 'She may be in bed,' I interposed. 
 
 " 'That is not likely,' he 'allowed,' as Keren 
 would say. 'Pardon me, aunt, but I have an 
 important matter to settle in your presence, as I 
 leave for New York early in the morning. Well?' 
 this to James who had returned from the tower 
 wing. 
 
 ' Miss Brenson is not in her room, sir. I knocked 
 three times, then tried the door. It is not locked, 
 and there's no light in the room.' 
 
 'Very well; you may go. Be sure to have a 
 cup of coffee and a biscuit for me at four, to-morrow 
 morning.' 
 
 " When James had gone, Brian also left the room, 
 but came back in a few minutes, with a folded note- 
 sheet in his hand. 
 
 " 'I found this in Miss Brenson's room it is ad- 
 dressed to you I have read it,' he said very curtly, 
 and gave me the paper. 
 
 "I read the few lines,- scrawled in great haste, by 
 a hand that had not been guided by dry eyes! This 
 is the note:
 
 380 SANDPEEP 
 
 " ' DEAR Miss WARRINGTON, 
 
 " ' Mrs. Warrington will tell you why I decided to go home 
 without seeing you again ; but I can't go without thanking 
 you a thousand times for your kindness to me and begging 
 you to forgive me for having taken the liberties I did. I 
 should not have taken them, if I had known what was my 
 proper place in this house if I knew more about rusticator 
 ways. Please tell Mrs. Warrington not to ask Mr. Warring- 
 ton to send me the suitable reward she said she would. I 
 don't want pay for what I did for him and I will not take 
 any. And I don't want any more wages, either, for it isn't 
 right you should pay me for teaching a boy who is ro relation 
 to you. Your kindness, the use of your piano and books, are 
 pay enough for everything. Good-bye, and thank you. 
 " ' Yours respectfully, 
 
 "'KEREN HAPPUCH BRENSON. 
 
 " 'P. S. If you don't think it taking too much liberty, 
 please say good-bye to Mr. Warrington for me.' 
 
 " I could have cried, Lem, when I read that pathetic 
 little postscript. I couldn't speak and just looked up 
 at Brian, whose brows were drawn together the 
 storm signal I know so well! 
 
 "'Juliet,' turning his frowning face upon her, 
 'what did you say to Miss Brenson?' 
 
 '" What did I say?' she repeated. 'How can you 
 expect me to remember every word I say ' 
 
 "' Try to remember,' he interrupted, in a tone that 
 was in keeping with his frowning brow. 
 
 "'Dear me, Brian,' impatiently, 'what is the use 
 of being so tragic about a trifle! What can it 
 matter: 1 If the girl were as guileless as you like to 
 believe, she would have accepted my reproof as be- 
 came a modest, well-mannered servant, instead of 
 trying to win your sympathy in such a theatrical 
 way.' 
 
 ' ' It matters a good deal what you said to drive 
 the girl out of my house on such a night,' he re- 
 plied, ignoring the latter half of her spiteful little 
 speech. ' I must know in order to make amends. 
 Try to recall what you said, and remember how 
 deeply I am indebted to '
 
 SANDPEEP 381 
 
 "'Indebted your grandmother!' Juliet broke in, 
 now very angry, her blue eyes fairly scintillating. 
 'You magnify a trifling service, and instead of let- 
 ting the girl think you are indebted to her, you 
 ought to reprove her for her bold conduct. Take 
 care, cousin,' shaking an admonitory finger at him 
 and smiling, ' don't let the quixotically chivalrous 
 feeling you entertain toward my sex lead you a 
 second time to commit a folly you would regret to 
 the end of your days! As for what I said to the 
 ex-governess,' she went on, never heeding the dark 
 flush her cruel reminder of his boyish recklessness 
 had brought to his face, ' I can recall only that I 
 expressed amazement at her boldness and her 
 familiar manner toward you; and cautioned her 
 against taking the same liberty with other men, 
 who might not prove so honorable as my chivalrous 
 cousin! ' 
 
 "'I am obliged to you for attributing to me a 
 quality I always prided myself on possessing! ' he 
 responded, calm and cool now. ' I regret exceed- 
 ingly, though, that you believed it necessary to insult 
 an innocent girl." 
 
 " Here, noting the increasing fury in Juliet's 
 countenance, I believed it expedient to hinder a 
 retort she would regret in her saner mood. I said: 
 1 Laddie, do tell me what you and Juliet are talking 
 about! What took you to Malston's cottage in 
 such a storm ? ' 
 
 " ' Pardon me, dear aunt, I forgot that you are 
 still in ignorance of what has been happening here. 
 It is a most extraordinary tale, and as it will take 
 some time, Ju and I will postpone further argument.' 
 
 " Then he told me everything, beginning with 
 Keren's encounter with that ruffian on the shore, 
 and concluding with his visit to the cottage. 
 
 " Now, what a wonderfully brave and good girl is 
 your protegee, Lem! Little did you imagine when 
 you sent her to me, that she would be the means of
 
 382 SANDPEEP 
 
 frustrating a diabolical plot to murder my laddie! I 
 don't wonder that he feels deeply indebted to her. 
 
 "After he had concluded his recital sensational 
 and blood-curdling as a modern romance he said : 
 
 " ' Now, dear aunt, I want you to do something 
 for me something I can't do myself chiefly for 
 want of time, and because it requires diplomacy! 
 You have told me that Miss Brenson's ambition is 
 to secure a musical education. I have decided that 
 the best way I can repay her for her great service 
 will be to make her desire possible; she shall have 
 musical instruction from the best masters. There- 
 fore, I want you to get her aunt to consent to go 
 with her to the place you select as the best for my 
 purpose. No expense shall be spared. Miss Bren- 
 son, you say, will not leave her aunt, consequently 
 the aunt must be induced to leave home, which I 
 think my diplomatic aunt can do. Will you under- 
 take to move the mountain, dear?' 
 
 " Now, though I wasn't confident that my persua- 
 sive powers were as forceful as my laddie believed, 
 I was ready and willing, as always, to do what he 
 asked. I said: 
 
 " ' Of course I will, for I, too, think the noble girl 
 deserves the highest reward you can confer.' That 
 was ' one ' for Ju! 
 
 ' Thank you, dear,' he answered. ' I knew I 
 could depend on you to help me;' that was meant 
 for Ju, too. 'This is what I propose: After you 
 have decided on the best place for Miss Brenson to 
 pursue her studies, and have induced her aunt to 
 accompany her, I want you to oblige me still fur- 
 ther by allowing the two helpless women to travel 
 under your guidance 
 
 ' Brian Warrington/ Juliet interrupted sharply, 
 'you surely ought not ask Aunt Elinor to travel 
 about the country in company with two such 
 aboriginals! ' 
 
 "' I don't ask Aunt Elinor to "travel about the
 
 SANDPEEP 383 
 
 country" with Miss Brenson and her aunt/ he an- 
 swered quietly. ' I only ask her to let two helpless 
 women, unused to travel, journey with her to the 
 place she has chosen ' 
 
 " ' Do your plans for the attractive fisher-maiden 
 also include marriage?' she interrupted a second 
 time, with insolent flippancy, ' after she shall have 
 acquired a musical education, and good manners?' 
 
 " I know she didn't expect the sort of reply my 
 laddie gave her. It deepened the angry hue in her 
 cheeks. 
 
 " ' No, my plans do not include what might bring 
 me happiness. I might be tempted to make a try 
 for it if I were not convinced that Miss Brenson 
 has already given her affections to one more suited 
 to her than an old, worry-seared fellow like myself. 
 Any man might count himself fortunate beyond his 
 deserts to win a wife so incapable of guile; and I 
 propose to do my " level best" to fit her for a mar- 
 riage with the man she admires. He shall never 
 have cause to be ashamed of his " fisher-maiden," if 
 money can hinder it! ' 
 
 " He saw the question, 'Who is the man?' on Ju's 
 lips, and prevented her asking it by turning to me 
 and adding: 
 
 " ' Please go to see Miss Brenson and her aunt 
 to-morrow; I shall want to hear how your mission 
 succeeded before I sail, day after to-morrow, for 
 France, where I am going to secure proof that the 
 note I found at the cottage tells the truth.' Then 
 to James, for whom he had rung: 
 
 " ' Tell Donald to saddle Orion at once, and bring 
 him to the door. I am going to Bunker's Cove,' he 
 explained to me when James had gone, 'to make 
 sure that Miss Brenson got home safely. May I tell 
 her you will see her to-morrow?' 
 
 " 'Yes, and give her my love! ' I answered heartily, 
 for I wanted Ju to know I took sides with my laddie. 
 
 " Then he went up to her and held out his hand.
 
 384 SANDPEEP 
 
 " ' As you will not be up when I leave in the morn- 
 ing, Juliet, I will bid you good-bye now.' 
 
 " She hesitated a moment, then gave him the tips 
 of her fingers without looking up at him. 
 
 " ' Don't let us part in anger, cousin,' he said 
 kindly, holding the reluctant fingers in his hand. 
 'We may not meet again for many months.' 
 
 " ' I should hope that it might be never! ' she ex- 
 claimed with fierce anger, starting to her feet and 
 looking at him with eyes aflame. ' I should pray 
 that your ship might go down to the bottom of the 
 sea with you if I thought you intended to disgrace 
 our name a second time." 
 
 " Without replying, the dear lad turned and left 
 the room, and a few moments afterward we heard 
 him ride away. 
 
 " ' Who is the man, Aunt Elinor?' 
 
 "Juliet asked her question of me when the sound 
 of hoof -beats had died away; but not for worlds 
 would I have told her then, what we you and I 
 and Brian believe: that Keren has, unconsciously 
 to herself, given her affections to Carrington, and 
 that we know he admires her intensely. I think 
 now that we three conspirators will regret having sent 
 Car a-voyaging around the world in order to cure 
 his infatuation. I, for one, hope he will prove in- 
 curable, for Keren will be a fit wife for the proudest 
 in the land when my lad and I shall have done with 
 educating her. She is of honest parentage. Many 
 of the American girls espoused by foreign noblemen 
 are of no better; they have only wealth to their 
 advantage, and goodness knows Car doesn't need 
 money with his wife. I do believe, if I had told Ju 
 what Brian has planned she would have gone clean 
 daft with fury! Instead, I told her a deliberate tara- 
 diddle (I'm a diplomatist, you see!) and she went 
 off to her room, believing me as ignorant of the 
 'man's' identity as herself. 
 
 " She is deeply attached to Brian, and the knowl-
 
 SANDPEEP 385 
 
 edge that he, at least, is safe from the wiles of the 
 ' fisher-maiden/ may help her to endure the calamity 
 of her brother's marriage, should it really come to 
 pass. 
 
 "It was after midnight when Brian returned from 
 his second ride, the home-coming this time in bright 
 moonlight, for the storm had passed from the 
 heavens, as well as from my lad's face. He was 
 smiling when he came up to my room to tell me of 
 his visit to Keren. 
 
 " He had found her weeping broken-heartedly ; but 
 her tears vanished, like dew under sunshine, when 
 he told her I was coming to see her in the morning. 
 The child was really more distressed because she be- 
 lieved I was displeased with her, than at losing her 
 'good chance' at the Lodge! Then my lad and I 
 talked over his plan and we decided that it would be 
 better to select the study-place abroad, where the 
 strange pair, the antiquated spinster and her lovely 
 niece, would arouse less curiosity than in our in- 
 quisitive Yankee-land. Moreover, the best masters 
 are in Europe, and my lad is 'sot' on having only 
 the best for his protegee yours no longer, my good 
 cousin! When the matter was settled near to 
 one o'clock and my lad was standing in front of 
 me, with my two hands in his, for good-bye (he 
 would not hear to my getting up a few hours later 
 to see him off), I said to him: 
 
 " ' May I ask a question before we part?' 
 
 " 'A dozen, as many as you like, dear.' 
 
 " 'I looked straight into his eyes, always honest and 
 truth-telling to me, and asked; 
 
 " 'Did you "really and truly" mean what you said 
 to Ju about Keren, that you would marry her 
 
 " 'My dear aunt! ' he interrupted, smiling indul- 
 gently down at me, 'Ju exasperated me to such a 
 degree, I hardly knew what I was saying. No, I did 
 not mean anything of the sort. I have done with 
 marrying. Even if I were foolish enough to enter-
 
 386 SANDPEEP 
 
 tain so preposterous an i^ea, I don't believe I could 
 carry it out. Car would win against me every 
 time! ' 
 
 " 'Do you really believe the girl cares in that way 
 for him?' I asked'. 
 
 " ' If by " that way " you mean well enough to marry 
 him, yes I do! She would be a freak-girl if she did 
 not admire him greatly after the pains he took to 
 let her know how much he admired her. Of his 
 feelings toward her, you may judge from a letter 
 he wrote me just before the Nautilus sailed from 
 New York. He informed me that he was fully 
 aware why he had been "shanghaied" on board the 
 yacht, and that if we imagined we had prevented 
 him from wooing and winning (the handsome rascal 
 is sure of his quarry, you see!) the "most beautiful 
 creature on earth," we were very much mistaken. 
 The forced voyage would strengthen, instead of con- 
 quer his passion and determination. 
 
 " ' Therefore, I concluded that the best possible way 
 to settle my account would be to fit her to wed with 
 our young kinsman. And now, dear, that you know 
 the double reason I have for educating Keren, you 
 will do what you can to help me, won't you?' 
 
 " ' That I will, laddie, and with great pleasure,' I 
 answered. 'But what would Juliet say?' 
 
 " ' She would rage, of course; so let her remain in 
 ignorance. What I am planning may miscarry; 
 Car's ardor may cool in the three or four years nec- 
 essary for Keren's education; and she may find, 
 when she gets out into the world, that there are 
 other attractive young gentlemen.' 
 
 " Well, my lad left us at early dawn, and several 
 hours later I drove to Bunker's Cove on my diplo- 
 matic errand. The mission was not nearly so diffi- 
 cult as I anticipated. ' Aunt Hit ' proved amenable. 
 She was very willing to leave home as soon as she 
 became convinced that it was 'Sandpeep's' dearest 
 desire.
 
 SANDPEEP 387 
 
 " So it is arranged that We leave here in a fortnight, 
 'we' meaning Aunt Hit, Keren and myself. Juliet 
 refuses, absolutely, to 'travel with a menagerie'; so 
 she goes on Saturday. 
 
 " After a few days in New York, 'we' sail for Ger- 
 many. I shall probably decide on Munich as the 
 study-place, rent a house, and remain with Keren 
 and her aunt, at least until they get used to life 
 in a foreign land. 
 
 "I shall write you when we are settled. Ju says 
 my hair will be several shades whiter when I have 
 piloted my 'Zoo' into the haven where we would be! 
 
 " With love and best wishes for Car, 
 
 " Affectionately, your cousin, 
 
 " ELINOR."
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 JOY, as well as sorrow, will hinder sleep. Know- 
 ing that Miss Warrington was not displeased 
 with me made me so thankful and happy I 
 could not keep my eyes shut when I went to bed 
 after Mr. Warrington had gone. Puzzling over 
 what it could be Miss Warrington was going to 
 ask me to do helped to keep me awake, too. 
 
 When the clock struck four, the hour Mr. 
 Warrington was to start to the Headlands, my 
 mind started with him. "Now," I said to my- 
 self, "he is driving down the avenue. Now, he 
 is outside the gates; now, going down the hill; 
 now, crossing the bridge; now, driving down the 
 street at the Headlands to the landing; now, he 
 is saying good-bye to Donald; now, he is going 
 aboard the boat ; now, the whistle blows 
 t-o-o-t! now, he is off! Good-bye, Mr. War- 
 rington, and God bless you! I hope you will 
 have a pleasant voyage, and come back next 
 summer. " 
 
 In my mind I saw the boat paddle away 
 around the Headlands, and then my ears 
 heard a stir in the spare-chamber. I was out of 
 bed in a wink, and had on my clothes and was 
 lighting the fire in the stove when aunt came into 
 
 388
 
 SANDPEEP 389 
 
 the kitchen. But didn't she look " clean scun- 
 dered, " though, when she saw me? 
 
 "My soul 'n' body, Sandpeep!" she exclaimed. 
 "What be you doin' to home now?" 
 
 "I am here to stop with you for good and all," 
 and I kissed her before I explained that I had 
 come the night before, but had not wakened her 
 because she was sleeping so soundly. 
 
 "I wonder the kerridge didn't waken me," she 
 allowed. 
 
 "I didn't come any farther in it than to the 
 wood-road. I walked home from there." 
 
 I told her that half-story because I did not 
 want her to know the whole truth; and I had 
 come on wheels, as far as the Cove-road. Story- 
 telling isn't so difficult after one has had some 
 practice and I have had considerable since I got 
 acquainted with those foreigners the horse- 
 riding woman, the wonderful leaper, and the fire- 
 jumper. 
 
 "How happened you to lose your chance?" 
 aunt asked, after a minute, not as if she was 
 the least bit sorry I had lost it. 
 
 I told her, while we went about getting break- 
 fast, enough of what had happened to satisfy 
 her curiosity; but I would not have mentioned 
 Mr. Warrington's coming to see me, if she had 
 not found Orion's hoof-marks in the door-yard 
 after breakfast. I was afraid Miss Warrington 
 might not come after all, and I could not have 

 
 3QO SANDPEEP 
 
 endured being asked so many questions if she 
 had not come. 
 
 "Sandpeep!" I left my dish- washing, and 
 went to the door "Here's a horse, or somethin' 
 else with hoofs on, been 'n' tromped all over my 
 boneset." 
 
 There was no explaining away the horse-hoof 
 marks, so I told her the owner of the Lodge had 
 come to tell me his aunt "would likely" call to 
 see us very soon! 
 
 "You hed ought to waked me up to say good- 
 bye to neighbor Warrin'ton," she allowed. 
 
 It was nearly noon when Miss Warrington 
 came. I had been watching the pasture-road, 
 and when I saw the cart coming I ran to the 
 gate. 
 
 "You dear, good, brave girl!" she said, after 
 shaking hands with me and kissing my cheek 
 she really kissed me! "How can we ever thank 
 you enough?'" 
 
 "By never thanking me at all, dear Miss War- 
 rington," I answered, and walked on air beside 
 her toward the house. 
 
 Before we got up to the stoop, where aunt was 
 waiting, she said, in a tone that didn't go farther 
 than my ear: 
 
 "Have you quite forgiven me for my unkind- 
 ness yesterday?" 
 
 "There isn't any yesterday!" I assured her, 
 "only a blessed to-day! How glad and thankful
 
 SANDPEEP 391 
 
 I am that you know why I couldn't answer your 
 question." 
 
 "My nephew told me everything last night 
 all about your brave conduct," she didn't call 
 it 'bold!' "I shall not feel that you have en- 
 tirely forgiven me until you agree to the plans 
 my nephew and I have made for your future." 
 
 "Oh," I told her joyfully, "I will agree to 
 anything. I promised Mr. Warrington I would." 
 
 "That's my good, sensible girl!" squeezing 
 my arm on which she was leaning. "Now, 
 you must help me to win your aunt's consent, 
 too." 
 
 "Aunt will do whatever I wish," I said, for I 
 knew the dear old soul would refuse me nothing, 
 except to wear a cap. 
 
 "Good-morning, Miss Mehitable; I hope you 
 are quite well?" 
 
 " Good-mornin' to you, ma'am, V thank you; 
 all of me's well 'ceptin' my j'ints, which hes rheu- 
 matiz. Walk in V lay off your bunnit." 
 
 "Thank you, I'll come in, but I can stay only 
 a few minutes." Not even a twinkle in her eyes 
 ever lets me see that she is laughing at aunt, 
 who, I know, must be different from the other 
 old ladies she is acquainted with. "I have called 
 this morning on a matter of business," she went 
 on to say, when she was sitting in aunt's rocker; 
 "business and friendship. My nephew and I 
 think your niece's wonderful musical talent ought
 
 392 SANDPEEP 
 
 to be cultivated. She ought to go where she can 
 study under the best teachers." 
 
 "Dear Miss Warrington," I interrupted quickly, 
 more disappointed than I could have said, for I 
 had hoped that she might ask us to be care- 
 takers at the Lodge, "you are very kind, and I 
 thank you and Mr. Warrington very much, but 
 you know I told you why I could not leave home ? " 
 
 "All that has been considered, my dear," she 
 answered, smiling at me. "You are not to be 
 separated from your aunt; she must be induced 
 to come with us ' 
 
 "Us?" I interrupted a second time, wondering. 
 
 "Yes; with you and me and Felice! We four 
 will travel together to the place I shall select as 
 the best for your studies." 
 
 "To Boston?" I exclaimed delightedly. 
 
 "Much farther, you true daughter of New 
 England ! " laughing. ' ' Across the ocean . You 
 will come with us, won't you, Miss Brenson?" to 
 dear old puzzled aunt, who was staring first at 
 me, then at Miss Warrington. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am, I shell be pleased to go, ef 
 Sandpeep wants I should. Where be we 
 a-goin'?" 
 
 "Ever and ever so far away, aunt dear," I an- 
 swered, knowing she hadn't the least idea what 
 she had promised. " Far away, across the Atlantic 
 Ocean, to stay for months, maybe " 
 
 "Years, my dear, years! Of course your aunt
 
 SANDPEEP 393 
 
 will be glad to go, knowing it will be for your 
 good. Besides, she will enjoy seeing new places 
 and people, and she will not get homesick, be- 
 cause you will be with her always." 
 
 The dear, good lady certainly knows how 
 to get around folks. Hardly knowing what it 
 really meant for us, aunt and I promised we 
 would go with her, and aunt has not yet fully 
 realized that she is to be away from the old 
 home, her "garding," and her hens, for years. 
 But she sha'n't get homesick for them if I can 
 hinder it. 
 
 "What will it all cost?" I asked Miss War- 
 rington, when everything had been settled. 
 
 "Not very much," she answered, smiling. 
 "Whatever it may cost, my nephew and I owe 
 you a great deal more, so don't let that ques- 
 tion trouble you." 
 
 "But I mean to pay it all back when I get 
 to be a first-class teacher and have a lot of 
 scholars," I assured her; and aunt added with 
 quite as much determination: 
 
 " 'N' I shell knit neighbor Warrin'ton's winter 
 socks fur him, 'n' your stockin's, ma'am, ef you 
 wear knit ones, 'n' do all your mendin' 'n' his'n, 
 too." 
 
 ' ' Thank you thank you ! " laughing. ' ' That 
 is a very friendly offer, Miss Mehitable. Just so 
 soon as we are settled in our new home, I will lay 
 in a supply of wool and you may begin at once.
 
 394 SANDPEEP 
 
 You, my dear," to me, a smile shining in her 
 kind eyes, "will have to study diligently while 
 your aunt knits. Now, we will talk about our 
 journey." 
 
 Fairy godmother (I believe now that there are 
 fairy godmothers outside, as well as inside of 
 story-books), did most of the talking, and when 
 she rose to go back to the Lodge she had ar- 
 ranged for Felice, her maid, to come that after- 
 noon to measure me and aunt for the new frocks 
 we were to have for the wonderful journey to 
 fairyland! I would rather have had frocks from 
 Boston than New York, but I didn't give another 
 thought to the place after Felice had gone with 
 her list of figures; there was too much else for 
 my brain to do. Aunt had the frocks on her 
 mind a deal more than I had; for that night, 
 when we were undressing later than for many 
 a day ! she let her skirts drop several inches, 
 until the hems trailed on the floor, and holding 
 them that way, paraded up and down the 
 kitchen, to see if she could walk with her " petti- 
 cuts a-dragglin' 'round her feet without trompin' 
 on them." The vain old dear, at her age, too! 
 
 Oh, we practiced many things, aunt and I, to 
 get used to the way we should have to live at that 
 other end of the world. Aunt's "power of adapt- 
 ability," as Miss Warrington calls it, filled me 
 with wonder and admiration. If she had been 
 born in a "tail-frock and silk bunnit," she could
 
 SANDPEEP 395 
 
 not have worn them with more sweet dignity and 
 ladyness (I'm sure there isn't a word in the dic- 
 tionary that would describe the way aunt looked 
 in her new gown and bonnet, better than that 
 one), and fairy godmother had actually coaxed 
 her into wearing a neat little cap that covered up 
 the wen and made her look ever so sweet! Truly, 
 pretty feathers make a pretty bird! 
 
 I didn't "look such a slouch," either (that's 
 what Mandy Bascom's man said about me, the 
 day aunt and I dressed up in our new finery to 
 let the neighbors see it), in my pretty blue cloth 
 dress. 
 
 It is truly wonderful how fast news can travel 
 where there are no telegraph wires. The birds 
 in the air, the frogs in the marsh, the bees, and 
 crickets, must have found out what was going on 
 at Brenson's, and have sung, croaked, buzzed, 
 and chirped it all along shore, else how could 
 every soul have learned, before the next morning 
 after Miss Warrington had called, that "Aunt 
 Hit 'n' Sandpeep was goin' to Europe with old 
 lady Warrin'ton?" 
 
 They all knew it, but what they didn't know 
 and couldn't find out was, what had "become of 
 the folks to the cottage so suddent" "Rustica- 
 tor ways " explained it, though, as many other 
 seemingly unexplainable mysteries are cleared up. 
 
 I wrote a long letter to Zemro, telling him of 
 our good luck moonstone luck ! and that
 
 396 SANDPEEP 
 
 Reuben Wasgott was going to marry Aramanda 
 Stinson and live in our house while we were 
 away, and that he would take care of the sloop. 
 I told him, too, that if he should come back to 
 the Cove before we did, he should use the Keren 
 whenever he wanted to, that I knew Dr. Parke 
 would not mind, and that, as I expected to teach 
 in Boston, or somewhere near there, when I 
 came back from Europe, I wanted him always to 
 consider our house a stopping-place whenever he 
 came our way. 
 
 At last we were ready. Only folks who have 
 never stirred more than a few miles away from 
 their own door-yards, to whom electric lights and 
 street-cars would seem like magic and elevated 
 railroad trains a fever-dream only such un- 
 tra veiled folks will understand how strangely aunt 
 and I felt. But, strange and wonderful as every- 
 thing was, only once did my smart old aunt 
 forget her dignity, the you-ain't-goin'-to-ketch- 
 me-lookin'-surprised-at-anythin' air she had put 
 on with her handsome new frock and bonnet. 
 
 It was in Boston, the wonderful, often-dreamed- 
 of , where we stopped one night, in a big hotel, ever 
 so many stories high. We Miss Warrington 
 and Felice and aunt and I were led by a nice- 
 looking boy into what I thought was a good- 
 sized closet, with a plush-covered seat along one 
 side. I found out what it was when he pulled 
 an iron rod and we began to go up, as if in a
 
 SANDPEEP 397 
 
 balloon, I guess aunt had been puzzling over 
 it, too, for she caught hold of me, and, unlike 
 me, she hadn't the least idea what it was, and 
 exclaimed, scared as she could be, "My soul 
 'n' body, Sandpeep! Where be we a-goin'?" 
 
 Miss Warrington explained that we were in 
 the ' 'elevator," -the "machine which carries 
 lazy city people up-stairs." 
 
 "Thank ye, ma'am," aunt said, and looked 
 greatly vexed at having forgotten her dignity 
 for a minute. "I was afeared 't was a b'loon. 
 I hain't used to trav'lin' in sech dangersome 
 veehicles 's b'loons." 
 
 Miss Warrington did not smile; neither did 
 Felice. The boy did, though he put his hand 
 to his lips to hide it. When we were alone in 
 the handsome big bedroom, she said to me: 
 
 "Sandpeep, I'm a babtized Christian woman, 
 'n' I hev tried to tell the truth all my life, 'n' I 
 hain't tellin' no story now when I say I never was 
 so scart in all my born days, es I was when thet 
 allegator began to fly up. I was jes' sure we'd 
 land nowheres! Pd ruther crawl up a steps, ef 
 't was long 's from the Headlands to Bostin, 'n 
 fly up in a allegator!" 
 
 Nothing could induce her to get into an "alle- 
 gator" again after she had gone down in one. 
 She said it made her feel too much as if she was 
 "comin' all apart in her middle!" 
 
 It would take too many pages to write down
 
 39 8 SANDPEEP 
 
 everything we saw in Boston, but I have it all 
 stored away snug and tight on the shelves in my 
 memory closet. But I must write down another 
 funny thing about aunt. As I didn't know how 
 to put out the electric lights in our room, I 
 stepped over to ask Miss Warrington, whose 
 room was just across the hall from ours. I 
 stopped with her longer than I intended and 
 when I went back, there was the door wide 
 open, but no aunt anywhere inside! Miss War- 
 rington went with me to look for the runaway, 
 whom we found coming up the stairs, greatly 
 excited. She caught my arm and said: 
 
 "Don't you go down them steps, Sandpeep, 
 'n' don't you go, neither, Miss Warrin'ton." 
 
 "Why, what is down there we ought not to 
 see?" Miss Warrington asked, smiling. I think 
 aunt is lots of fun for her, though she never 
 lets us see it. 
 
 "There's a disrespectable woman in a big 
 room down there, 'n' she's most naked. She's 
 a-playin' on the pianny 'n' a-screelin' at the top 
 of her voice, like you do, Sandpeep, when a 
 cat'pillar crawls onto you. But there hain't no 
 cat'pillar on her, for she's laughin' at a lot of 
 men-folks thet's standin' 'round the pianny, 'n' 
 she with nothin' on her from here up," laying her 
 hand on her bosom, " 'ceptin' two little narrer 
 ribbins 'crosst her shoulders, the disrespectable 
 hussy!"
 
 SANDPEEP 399 
 
 Miss Warrington laughed, then explained to 
 aunt that the "screelin' " woman wasn't "dis- 
 respectable" because she had on a fashionable 
 evening dress, and that she was most likely one 
 of the celebrated opera singers who were stop- 
 ping at the hotel. When we were back in our 
 room, aunt said to me, very solemnly: 
 
 "Sandpeep Brenson, be you goin' to learn to 
 sing like that screelin' woman, when you git to 
 Europe?" 
 
 "I don't know, I'm sure, aunt," I answered, 
 just as solemnly; "I shall have to learn what- 
 ever will be necessary." 
 
 "Wall," after thinking for a minute, "ef you 
 hev to screel like her, I hope 'n' pray you won't 
 never hev to wear a frock thet's too short at the 
 wrong end!" 
 
 I must say that I was disappointed with Bos- 
 ton. I hadn't expected to find gold and silver in 
 the streets, but I had expected to find them dif- 
 ferent from what they are, not crooked as sheep- 
 paths, and not nearly as wide as the street at the 
 Headlands; and so crowded! Wagons and car- 
 riages and cars and people, all going in different 
 directions, and so tangled up together, I wonder 
 they ever get themselves untangled and get to 
 where they want to go. I hadn't a minute's 
 peace all the time aunt and I were driving to 
 and from Bunker Hill Monument, which was 
 the sight we wanted most to see, for fearing
 
 400 SANDPEEP 
 
 we should be run into, or that we might run 
 over and kill somebody. Aunt just kept her 
 eyes shut, which is a good way to keep from 
 feeling scared, though it isn't exactly the best 
 way to get an idea of a place. 
 
 That first ride in the railroad train, from 
 Boston to New York, was another strange ex- 
 perience. It made me dizzy, and aunt said she 
 felt "queer to her stummick." I understand 
 now why city folks are always in such a hurry 
 to get to places. It's natural they shouldn't be 
 satisfied to just sit still and wait for the breeze, 
 after having got used to fly along on smooth 
 rails, whether the wind blows or not. 
 
 Miss Warrington's city home is another chap- 
 ter in our wonder-book. What I can't under- 
 stand is, why do folks have such lovely homes 
 when they don't stay in them? It really doesn't 
 seem fair for some to have all the money and 
 others none at all. But, there! I have no call 
 to complain, I'm sure; am I not to have the 
 loan of all the money I shall need to do what I 
 have wanted to do all my life? I don't believe, 
 though, I shall care to teach singing- school. I 
 should rather teach piano-playing on week-days, 
 and sing in a church on Sunday. Miss War- 
 rington told me lots of men and women get paid 
 for singing in the city churches. Wouldn't Ara- 
 manda Stinson open her eyes to hear that! 
 
 The streets I saw in New York are not as
 
 SANDPEEP 401 
 
 crooked as those in Boston, but they are just as 
 crowded. When the end of the week we spent 
 there came, I felt that if something should turn 
 up to send me back to Bunker's Cove, to stay 
 for the rest of my life, I shouldn't mind it so 
 very much, for I should have enough to think 
 and talk about to keep me from getting lonesome 
 ever again. 
 
 The voyage across the ocean wasn't so new to 
 us, though the big steamboat was. Aunt is sure 
 that it is "longer 'n from our hen-pen to Sammy 
 Perkinses fish-house, 'n' 'most 's wide 's the pas- 
 tur'." It certainly is more like a big hotel than 
 a boat. 
 
 When I go to heaven, which I hope and 
 pray I may, when my time comes to leave this 
 beautiful world, I know I sha'n't feel any more 
 strange than I did in Paris, where we stopped 
 another week. I sha'n't have any more trouble 
 understanding the angels and the cherubim, and 
 finding my way about the golden streets, than I 
 did in the city where everybody speaks a lan- 
 guage I can't understand. I just let Felice do 
 all the talking, and had her tell me in English 
 what everything was. Felice is a very nice girl 
 and she was born in Paris. 
 
 But if Paris French is dreadful, German is 
 just awful! "It sounds like you was guggling 
 your throat," aunt says, and it's true. How I 
 am to get along here in Munich, when Miss
 
 402 SANDPEEP 
 
 Warrington goes back to America, I don't know 
 I'm sure. But she is going to stay until we get 
 thoroughly settled and acquainted with the ways 
 of this foreign city. Our good fairy godmother 
 has rented a very nice house for us, and by the 
 time she is ready to leave us, the help will know 
 what we need without our having to "guggle" 
 for it. 
 
 Letters were waiting here for Miss Warrington 
 when we arrived. Two of them were for me; 
 one from Dr. Parke, the other from Mr. Fair- 
 boro, who wrote only a few lines to tell me how 
 delighted he was to hear from "our mutual 
 friend" the doctor, that I had decided to study 
 music in Germany as if I had been the one 
 to decide anything! He wished me success, 
 and hoped I might be ready to play and sing 
 duets with him when he came to Munich in the 
 spring. He hoped, too, that I would not lose 
 my heart to any of "those musical, beer-drinking 
 Dutchmen " which is not at all likely ! and was 
 mine "faithfully." He is a very nice gentleman! 
 
 Doctor Parke wrote that he had heard from his 
 cousins all about the "wonderful events" which 
 had happened at Surgecliff, and praised me for 
 my "noble conduct." He hoped I would be- 
 come a celebrated "prima donna," which means 
 a "screelin' woman," Miss Warrington says. I 
 hope I may, if prima-donnaing pays as well as 
 teaching.
 
 SANDPEEP 403 
 
 It was very silly of me to get red in the face 
 when Miss Warrington asked me if Mr. Fairboro 
 said anything about coming to see us she 
 called him "Carrington," which I think such a 
 pretty name. I gave her his letter to read, and 
 when she handed it back to me, she said: 
 
 "Car is a nice fellow! We shall be glad to 
 have him pay us a visit " 
 
 "Are you really thinking of staying in Munich 
 until spring?" I interrupted, in my delight for- 
 getting all about "Car." 
 
 "Yes, I think it will be necessary," smiling at 
 me, "in order to prevent Car from taking too 
 much of your time from your studies!" 
 
 I assured her I should not allow him or any- 
 body else to do that; and I couldn't help won- 
 dering at the change in her. There was a time, 
 not such a great while ago, when she spoke and 
 looked very differently when Mr. Fairboro' s 
 name was mentioned between us. She puzzles 
 me a good deal lately. 
 
 Nothing is allowed to interfere with my studies, 
 now that I have got at them in real earnest; too 
 deeply interested to think as often as I ought of 
 poor old aunt, all by herself so many hours, with 
 no one to talk to and nothing to do but knit 
 knit knit. Mr. Warrington will never be able 
 to wear out half the socks she will knit for him, 
 while I am getting my education. 
 
 Fairy godmother has already got acquainted
 
 404 SANDPEEP 
 
 with so many people, Germans and Americans 
 and English, that her " social duties" take up 
 too much of her time to leave more than a few 
 minutes now and then to talk to aunt and me. 
 
 But if aunt ever feels homesick or lonesome 
 she never says so and never lets me see how 
 sorely she must miss her hens and her "gard- 
 ing" and the old home, where she lived all the 
 seventy years of her life. 
 
 After study hours, Miss Warrington takes us 
 for a drive. Of course, we never see any of the 
 people who call on her, and when there is com- 
 pany to luncheon or dinner, we have ours in 
 our cozy little sitting-room, with the neat little 
 maid, whose name sounds like "Kitchen," to 
 wait on us. She can't say anything in English 
 but "yes, yes," "mees" that's "miss" and 
 "no," and we can't "guggle" to her; but we 
 manage very well to let her know what we 
 want by making motions. 
 
 I haven't spoken to a soul but aunt and Miss 
 Warrington and Felice since we landed. I can't 
 even talk to the "Herr Professors" yet; but I 
 am going to begin next week to take German 
 and French lessons from a lady, Frau Becke 
 -aunt calls her "Mrs. Frowbecky," and the 
 Professor, "Mr. Hairprofessor." Poor, dear old 
 aunt! she is so funny! 
 
 I wonder why Miss Warrington never intro- 
 duces the gentlemen to me who ride on horse-
 
 SANDPEEP 405 
 
 back beside the carriage sometimes. I dare say 
 it's "rusticator" ways not to introduce them. I 
 wish it wasn't, for I know I should enjoy talking 
 to those who speak English. I think they would 
 like to talk to me, too, for I have caught several 
 of the younger ones looking at me while they 
 were speaking to Miss Warrington. 
 
 Miss Warrington has received several letters 
 from Mr. Warrington, who is still in France, 
 hunting up proofs, and in every one of them he 
 asks to be kindly remembered to me and aunt, 
 and hopes I am making "fine progress" in my 
 studies. I hope so, too, I'm sure, for I do want 
 to please him and Miss Warrington.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 A WHOLE month since I told anything to 
 my dear secret-book! I did not think so 
 many weeks would pass before I should 
 open it again. I have had much else to take up 
 my time, many lessons to practice and study. 
 But now I am going to write down some of the 
 wonderful events, even if I have to stay up all 
 night to do it. 
 
 A week before Christmas, Mr. Warrington 
 wrote to his aunt that the business which had 
 brought him to France had been settled entirely 
 to his satisfaction, and that he expected to pay 
 her a brief visit before returning to America. 
 
 "Then he won't stop here until you go home?" 
 I said when she had read the letter to me. 
 
 "No, there is nothing to keep him here," she 
 answered. "I know he must want to get back to 
 New York and his friends; he has spent so much 
 time away." 
 
 "You, too, dear Miss Warrington, must want 
 to go back to your friends. You have made so 
 many sacrifices for me that - 
 
 "Tut-tut!" she interrupted. "Sacrifices? I 
 haven't made one. I don't intend to remain 
 here during the entire period of your studies. 
 
 406
 
 SANDPEEP 407 
 
 As soon as you know enough German to get on 
 comfortably without me, I intend to make little 
 tours about this side of the world and take an 
 occasional run over to New York, coming back 
 now and then to see how you are progressing." 
 
 "You are so good to me," I said gratefully; "I 
 don't know how I am ever to pay you back " 
 
 "By studying diligently," she interrupted, 
 smiling. "Herr Czarka told me yesterday that 
 you possess a fortune in your voice." 
 
 "A fortune!" I repeated. "Do you think he 
 really believes it?" 
 
 "He is too severe a critic to commend a voice 
 in which he does not recognize possibilities. 
 How should you like to become a prima donna?" 
 
 "If it is going to be possible for me to say, I 
 shall choose whichever pays better, teaching or 
 prima-donnaing. ' ' 
 
 She laughed heartily, then said: 
 
 "Oh, you mercenary child! I don't believe 
 you care for fame, the applause of an admiring 
 public." 
 
 "I should like to become famous, of course," 
 I allowed, "but not like those poets and artists 
 who nearly starved before the public found them." 
 
 "You are practical, whatever else you may 
 be," she said smiling. "To anyone who did 
 not know you, you would appear mercenary; but 
 7 know why you are anxious to make money; 
 and I am going to tell you now, that you need
 
 4 o8 SANDPEEP 
 
 not covet wealth in order to pay a fancied debt. 
 Do you hear?" pretending to be very cross. 
 "We owe you far more than we can ever hope 
 to repay. Now, not another word, ever again, 
 about wanting to make money to pay us. Tell 
 me, does the thought of marriage never have a 
 place in that strange brain of yours?" 
 
 "Are you thinking of Zemro Haskell ? " I asked. 
 
 "Heavens, no!" with a look as if she had 
 heard something disagreeable. "I am thinking 
 of a vastly different man, a man better suited 
 to what you will be when you have completed 
 your studies. A young gentleman like well, 
 say Carrington Fairboro!" 
 
 Good gracious, how red my face got when she 
 said that! I felt as if the blood which had 
 poured into it was boiling hot! 
 
 "I haven't ever thought much about 
 marrying," I answered, "and I wouldn't think 
 that way about Mr. Fairboro, anyway. I 
 wouldn't for the world do anything that would 
 displease you and Mr. Warrington." 
 
 "My nephew and I now view matters differ- 
 ently, my dear," she allowed. "We should not 
 be displeased now if you thought 'that way,'" 
 smiling, "about Carrington. But there must be 
 no thinking of marrying for ever so long. Now, 
 I must write to the doctor. If you intend to 
 answer Carrington' s letter, I will send yours 
 with mine to Bombay." *
 
 SANDPEEP 409 
 
 " Thank you. Do you think I ought?" I 
 asked her. 
 
 "Do as you like, my dear. The only com- 
 mand I lay upon you is, don't let letters or 
 anything else interfere with your studies." 
 
 "You may be sure I sha'n't," I answered, 
 and told her I believed I wouldn't write to Mr. 
 Fairboro, as I really hadn't the time. 
 
 What I didn't tell her, though, was, that even 
 if I am not allowed to speak about paying back 
 what I owe, I intend to do it some tune. 
 
 Christmas brought a great disappointment, as 
 well as beautiful gifts to me and aunt. Mr. 
 Warrington did not get here in time to eat a 
 "Yankee dinner" with us, as we had expected. 
 He had written to his aunt that she might ex- 
 pect him to dine with her, that he would arrive 
 on the early afternoon train, and that we would 
 all go to the opera in the evening. 
 
 If anything could have made up for his ab- 
 sence from our splendid dinner, it would have 
 been the sight of dear old aunt in her handsome 
 black silk dress and lace cap presents from 
 Miss Warrington. She looked like a picture, 
 and only her brown, work-hardened hands and 
 knotty fingers good, useful hands showed 
 that she was Aunt Hit of Bunker's Cove, instead 
 of a fine old lady out of a gold frame! Aunt is 
 one of those persons who, though they know 
 hardly anything, can look as if they know a
 
 4 io SANDPEEP 
 
 lot, but do not care to take the trouble to tell 
 it to everybody. She is a smart old dear, is 
 Aunt Hit! 
 
 My own gifts were a dear little gold watch, 
 and a perfectly lovely pale green Felice calls 
 it "Nile" green crape frock. Miss Warring- 
 ton had it made for me to wear to our Christmas 
 dinner and to the opera afterward. I hated to 
 put it on for dinner, I was so afraid I might 
 drop something on it, but fairy godmother al- 
 lowed that it, as well as aunt's pretty black silk, 
 had been ordered for just such occasions; so we 
 had to dress up in them to please her. She 
 wore a handsome black lace dress. If I hadn't 
 known who it was, I should not have recognized 
 the pretty girl that looked at me from the long 
 looking-glass in Miss Warrington's room, where 
 Felice took me to look at myself after she had 
 helped me dress. 
 
 Fine feathers had made a powerful fine bird 
 of me! and when I was all ready to start to the 
 opera, white kid gloves on my hands and hair 
 piled on top of my head in a way I never could 
 have done it myself, with a lovely white cloth 
 cape around my shoulders, and a white fan, all 
 presents from fairy godmother, nobody would 
 have known me for Sandpeep Brenson, any 
 more than they* would have known aunt. 
 
 Aunt couldn't be coaxed to go to the opera 
 with us. She wasn't "goin' to listen to a lot of
 
 SANDPEEP 411 
 
 screelin' weemen like the one she see to Bostin, 
 thet hedn't hardly any close on!" so Miss War- 
 rington and I went in a carriage by our two 
 selves, and I know she, as well as I, sadly missed 
 the one we had expected would be with us. 
 
 Such a lot of lights as there were in that beau- 
 tiful big hall! And people! One would have 
 thought nobody had stopped at home! When 
 the big curtain was rolled up, I thought I was 
 looking at real woods, and if there had been 
 moss under them, instead of a floor, not even 
 Miss Warrington could have made me believe 
 that I was not looking out of doors. 
 
 Oh, everything was perfectly grand, the music, 
 the singing, the beautiful scenery! The only 
 thing I was not perfectly delighted with was that 
 the opera people talked German to each other 
 when they weren't singing. I didn't mind their 
 singing in German, for it's the music of it that 
 matters. 
 
 Several times I caught Miss Warrington look- 
 ing at me and I wondered if I were behaving 
 properly. I did just what everybody else did 
 sat still and listened while the curtain was up, 
 and the opera people were singing; and fanned 
 myself though I wasn't a bit too warm 
 when it was down. I didn't clap my hands 
 though, when the rest did, for I was afraid of 
 splitting my gloves. Dear knows, I wanted, 
 badly enough, to show how pleased I was; but
 
 4 i2 SANDPEEP 
 
 I wouldn't even let myself cry for fear the 
 tears might fall on my frock and spot it. 
 
 When we were getting ready to go home, and 
 Miss Warrington was helping me put on my 
 cape, she said: 
 
 "I am afraid I made a great mistake bringing 
 you here this evening, my dear." 
 
 "Didn't I behave properly?" I asked, ready 
 to cry. 
 
 "Yes, you silly child, of course you behaved 
 properly. I mean that you attract too much at- 
 tention. You are too pretty, but you can't help 
 that!" and she gave my shoulder a little slap. 
 
 "I shouldn't want to help it if I could," I 
 answered, and felt glad all over. I think I 
 look nice in this lovely dress, too. I only wish 
 Mr. Warrington could have seen me in it! I 
 guess he would have needed to be introduced 
 to this Sandpeep Brenson. 
 
 I was sitting in the carriage when Miss War- 
 rington stepped back to hear what two gentle- 
 men standing near the carriage, were saying. 
 After listening for a minute, she spoke to one of 
 them, and after he had answered, she came to 
 the carriage door and said very quietly, but 
 her face was white as chalk: "There has been 
 an accident on the railway, Keren. I am going 
 with Count von " I don't know how to spell 
 the rest of his name "to the railway station 
 to make inquiries about it."
 
 SANDPEEP 413 
 
 "Please let me go with you," I said. I was 
 going to get out of the carriage, but she pushed 
 me back to the seat, and said: 
 
 "No, you must go home. The count will call 
 a cab for me." 
 
 "But please, dear Miss Warrington," I ex- 
 claimed, and caught hold of her arm, "tell me 
 if anything has happened to Mr. Warrington?" 
 I could hardly speak. 
 
 "He may not have been on the wrecked train. 
 We can only pray that he was not, though it was 
 the one he expected to take. Several cars were 
 burned, with their passengers!" 
 
 Then she hurried away with the count, and I 
 was truly thankful to drive away from the star- 
 ing "Herrs" who had gathered around the car- 
 riage door. I wanted to scream, to beat my 
 hands together, to do something to rid myself of 
 the dreadful choking in my throat. I could not 
 breathe. I lowered both windows, but not even 
 the ice-cold air helped me. When the carriage 
 stopped in front of our house, I got out, stag- 
 gered across the pavement, up the steps to the 
 front door, where "Kitchen" was standing to let 
 me in. She said something about a "Gnadiger 
 Herr" but I was too near suffocating to see or hear 
 anything but cars burning up, and awful screams. 
 
 Hardly knowing what I was doing, I dragged 
 myself up-stairs to the door of Miss Warrington's 
 sitting-room. I opened it, and stopped suddenly
 
 414 SANDPEEP 
 
 with the knob in my hand I had to hold it, 
 to keep from falling down when a tall figure 
 rose from the arm-chair in front of the fireplace 
 and turned toward me. Only the coals in the 
 grate lighted the room, and their faint glow made 
 the figure seem all the more like the spirit I be- 
 lieved it; but the voice told me that what had 
 made me want to die was not true. My good, 
 kind friend, Mr. Warrington, was not in the 
 burning cars! It was not his spirit I saw, but 
 his own living self. 
 
 "I beg pardon," he said, and I knew he did 
 not recognize me, and no wonder! "The servant 
 told me this was my aunt's Miss Warrington's 
 
 room, and why!" in great surprise, limping 
 toward me I could not have moved away from 
 the door-knob, for I seemed to have died but 
 not of grief! "I believe it is Miss Brenson! 
 How wonderfully you have changed! But what 
 is the matter? Are you ill?" he asked, when I 
 made no move to lay my hand in the one he held 
 toward me. 
 
 "N n o, sir," I had to force myself to 
 answer, "I we heard the dreadful accident 
 
 I thought you were burned dead oh, it 
 was horrible horrible!" and I covered my 
 eyes with my hand. 
 
 "Where is my aunt?" I heard him ask after 
 a minute, and uncovering my eyes I saw that he 
 had turned on the lights and was looking at me.
 
 SANDPEEP 415 
 
 "She went to the railway station to ask 
 about the accident." 
 
 "Didn't she receive my telegram this after- 
 noon, explaining that I should be delayed?" he 
 asked, still looking at me as if he were trying to 
 see what was at the back of my mind. 
 
 "No, sir; we only heard about it when we 
 were leaving the opera " 
 
 "What inexcusable neglect!" he interrupted, 
 the wrinkle showing between his eyebrows. "I 
 requested that the message be sent at once, for 
 I knew how anxious my aunt would be when she 
 heard of the accident. I arrived here only a few 
 minutes after you had started to the opera house, 
 and would have followed, but I am a little stiff 
 from the severe shaking up. You poor child," 
 taking both my hands in his, "you look half- 
 frightened out of your senses too frightened to 
 bid me welcome, to wish me a merry Christmas, 
 even if it is near to midnight!" 
 
 Though he was joking, I could not smile. I 
 could only say, very soberly: 
 
 "I was horribly frightened. I believed I was 
 dying when I saw you; I thought you were a 
 spirit." 
 
 "Of course you did, believing me from the 
 spirit-land!" he answered heartily, holding my 
 hands close. "Anyone would have been fright- 
 ened, you tender-hearted child!" 
 
 "Yes they would, and oh, Mr. Warrington,"
 
 416 SANDPEEP 
 
 looking up into his kind face through the tears 
 which were filling my eyes I never once 
 thought then that they might spot my dress! 
 "I can't describe how I felt. I do really and 
 truly believe I should have died, if you hadn't 
 spoken when you did." 
 
 He looked closely at me for a minute before he 
 said: 
 
 "Your attachment to your friends is very 
 strong, my dear child. I hope most sincerely 
 you may not again be forced to grieve unnec- 
 essarily for any of them. Let us both hope that 
 our wanderers, the doctor and Carrington, may 
 reach their journey's end without accident." 
 
 "I hope so," I agreed heartily. "I should be 
 very, very sorry if anything happened to them; 
 but I don't believe I should want to die if I 
 thought I should never see them again." 
 
 "You would have wanted to die if I had not 
 escaped from the wrecked cars really and 
 truly?" he asked, and he looked strangely at me. 
 
 "I don't think so, I know it," I answered 
 decidedly, and it was God's truth, too. I don't 
 care if it was silly to tell him so. "I know now 
 how much how very much I have wanted to 
 see you again. I have looked forward to seeing 
 you as the sailor looks forward to a safe harbor, 
 when he is weathering a gale at sea, ever since 
 the night you came to Bunker's Cove to say 
 good-bye, and to ask me to promise to do what
 
 SANDPEEP 417 
 
 your aunt would ask me the next day promise 
 to do what I had wished, longed, prayed for all 
 my life, 'most! I know now that I study so hard, 
 try so hard to learn, because I want to please 
 you and that it is because I want you to be 
 happy I try not to care that you are going to 
 going to' 
 
 "Go on; what am I going to do?" he asked, 
 keeping hold of my hands, when I wanted to 
 cover my red face with them. 
 
 "To marry your beautiful cousin," I said, 
 very low. I hung my head I could not look 
 at him. 
 
 "You think I am going to marry my cousin 
 Juliet?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; all the help at the Lodge said so 
 and oh, please, Mr. Warrington, don't make 
 me tell you anything more, I am too ashamed." 
 I wanted to run out of the room, but he would 
 not let go of my hands. 
 
 "No, my dear Keren," he said, oh, so kindly; 
 "I will not make you tell me anything more 
 now. I will not ask you any more questions, 
 only assure you that I am not going to marry 
 my cousin" 
 
 "Then won't you stop here with us for a little 
 while before you go back to New York?" I 
 interrupted, joy giving me courage to look at 
 him again. 
 
 "Not for a 'little' while," he answered, and
 
 4 i8 SANDPEEP 
 
 smiled; "for a long while! I think you and 
 Aunt Elinor need me to watch over you ! 
 Now, I must go to the station and bring my 
 aunt home, and do you go straight to bed. 
 Good-night, little mermaid!" 
 
 He looked at me as if he were going to say 
 something else, but he did not, just let go my 
 hands and limped out of the room. 
 
 I went on to my own, where I kissed the 
 moonstone on my finger. 
 
 From Miss Elinor Warrington, Munich, Ger- 
 many, to Dr. Lemuel J. Parke, Bombay. 
 
 "DEAR COUSIN LEM, 
 
 " I know you will be surprised to find two letters 
 from me awaiting you at Bombay. The cause of 
 this ' superfluous literature ' as it pleases you to 
 call the ' majority of the feminine screeds ' is 
 that I simply cannot wait until you reach your next 
 port, to tell you a most astounding piece of news. 
 So I send this 'screed' after the other I mailed to 
 you only two days ago. 
 
 "That Juliet's sight is keener, after all, than ours 
 yours and mine and Brian's the events of the 
 past night prove conclusively. You will have read 
 in my other letter that is, if you have opened it 
 first of the elaborate plans I made for our United 
 States Christmas dinner in this foreign city, at which 
 I expected my laddie to preside, and the opera after- 
 ward. "We had the dinner as arranged, but no Brian. 
 He was delayed by a terrible accident to his train, 
 of which, however, we heard nothing not having 
 received the telegram he sent me until we were 
 leaving the opera house to come home. I wish you
 
 SANDPEEP 419 
 
 could have seen Keren; she was absolutely bewil- 
 dering! I gave her a pretty evening frock for a 
 Christmas present, which she wore to dinner un- 
 willingly, for she was afraid of getting a 'spot' on 
 it! and afterward to the opera; and I don't 
 wonder the spectacled Teutons directed their atten- 
 tion toward our box as frequently as toward the 
 stage. Even in her plain street frock the girl's un- 
 usual beauty attracts so much attention that when 
 she and her aunt drive with me, all my 'diplo- 
 macy' is required to fend off the men who crowd 
 about our carriage. 
 
 "However, there will be a second dragon hereafter, 
 to help me ward off admirers, and this is what I 
 write to tell you. 
 
 "When we were leaving the opera house to come 
 home, I overheard two gentlemen, acquaintances, 
 talking about a terrible disaster to the "schnell- 
 zug"; and knowing that Brian had intended to take 
 that train, you may imagine how horribly fright- 
 ened I was. It had not occurred to me that such a 
 calamity might have caused laddie's non-appear- 
 ance. I attributed it to the usual ' unrelyuponable- 
 ness ' how clever of De Quincy to have invented 
 that lovely long word! of your sex. Well, I sent 
 Keren home in the carriage and went with Count 
 von Stufenhausen in a cab to the railway station. 
 
 " My own fear and agitation hindered me from 
 noticing the effect of the terrible news upon Keren. 
 She, too, believed that Brian was among the victims 
 burned to death in the wrecked cars, and, thinking 
 him dead, you may imagine her feelings when, on 
 entering my sitting-room, which was only faintly 
 lighted by the coals in the grate, she saw him rise 
 from the arm-chair in front of the fireplace and 
 turn toward her. If Keren could understand Ger- 
 man, she would not have imagined she beheld a 
 ghost; for the maid informed her that the "Gnadi- 
 ger Herr" had arrived and was in my sitting-room.
 
 420 SANDPEEP 
 
 "And now, at last, I come to the most astonishing 
 part of my story. 
 
 "Keren was naturally frightened when she saw 
 Brian, and in her agitation betrayed the deep and 
 reverential affection she entertains for him, which 
 only Juliet's jealous eyes were keen enough to; 
 detect. That the child is wholly unaware of the 
 real character of her affection, I am confident, as. 
 is Brian; but of its existence he is now as certain 
 as is Juliet. 
 
 "He came to the railway station for me, and when 
 we were driving home, he said suddenly: 
 
 "'Aunt, we have all made a great mistake in 
 believing our protegee attached to Car.' 
 
 "'What makes you think so?' I asked, surprised 
 that he should choose to discuss such a subject then; 
 I had not yet recovered from my terrible fright. 
 
 '"Something happened this evening which con- 
 vinced me that we need take no further pains to 
 educate her with the view of making her a fit wife 
 for him.' 
 
 '"You think she doesn't care enough for him? ' I 
 asked. 
 
 1 ' I know she doesn't, he answered with decision. 
 
 '"Then, that question settled to your entire 
 satisfaction I see what do you propose to do ? 
 train her for the operatic stage? Herr Czarka says 
 there is a fortune in her voice.' 
 
 "'I have no doubt she has a great talent; but she 
 is not going to make use of it on the stage. I am 
 going to marry her if she will have me.' 
 
 ' ' Brian! Laddie! ' You may believe I was 
 amazed, 'clean scundered,' as Aunt Hit would say. 
 ' ' I mean it,' he assured me, and I could see that 
 he did. 
 
 "Well ' I had to draw a long breath before I 
 could go on to say: 'I am amazed! Though I was 
 half inclined for a little while to believe Juliet when 
 she told me Keren adored you, I never dreamed that
 
 SANDPEEP 421 
 
 your feelings toward her were warmer than those of 
 a benefactor for his beneficiary.' 
 
 " ' I was not aware of the true state of my regard 
 for her, either, until this evening ' 
 
 '"I thought you loved Juliet and intended to 
 marry her,' I interrupted. 
 
 "'I put that youthful madness out of my heart 
 long ago, dear aunt; and I convinced myself last 
 summer that not a spark of it remained alive. Now, 
 mind you, dear,' taking my hand and pressing it, 
 ' our girl is not to know my intentions concerning 
 her future. She must be left entirely free to choose 
 it for herself whether she will have me for her 
 man, or Car, or mayhap some other fortunate 
 fellow. Car must have his innings, too. We will 
 invite him here for a long visit, and Keren shall 
 have ample time to prove her heart. She shall not 
 be influenced one way or another! ' 
 
 " There, Lem, that is my wonderful news, and can 
 you guess for whom the wedding-bells will ring? 
 "Affectionately your cousin, 
 
 " ELINOR. " 
 
 END
 
 A New Novel by the Author of " Quo Vadis" 
 
 ON THE FIELD 
 OF GLORY 
 
 By HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ 
 
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