brows, the deep, rich colouring, all combined to make such a picture as
good Mrs. Peck realised to be superb.

Again the pure contralto trill came from the red lips, and then, with a
sudden movement that had in it something of the grace of an alighting
bird, Columbine turned, swinging her empty can.

"I've promised to take Mr. Knight to the Spear Point Caves by
moonlight," she said. "He's doing a moonlight study, and he doesn't
know the lie of the quicksand."

"Sakes alive!" said Mrs. Peck. "What made him ask you? There's Adam
knows every inch of the shore better nor what you do."

"He didn't ask," said Columbine. "I offered. And I know the shore just
as well as Adam does, Aunt Liza. Adam himself showed me the lie of the
quicksand long ago. I know it like my own hand."

Mrs. Peck pursed her lips. "I doubt but what you'd better take Adam
along too," she said. "I wouldn't feel easy about you. And there won't
be any moonlight worth speaking of till after ten. It wouldn't do for
you to be traipsing about alone even with Mr. Knight--nice young
gentleman as he be--at that hour."

"Aunt Liza, I don't traipse!" Momentary indignation shone in the
beautiful eyes and passed like a gleam of light. "Dear Aunt Liza,"
laughed Columbine, "aren't you funny?"

"Not a bit," maintained Mrs. Peck. "I'm just common-sensical, my dear.
And it ain't right--it never were right in my young day--to go walking