VIII.

_THE COTTAGE ON THE CLIFF._


"Well, my dearie," said grandmamma, "uncle and I have just taken such a
pretty little cottage for you all, high up on the cliff, looking right
over the blue sea. And you are to go off and try if the fresh wind up
there will put a little more colour into those cheeks of yours!"

My dear little friends, I had just nestled down snugly enough on
grandmamma's silk dress and black lace shawl, never having the least
idea of the dear, kind purpose of that long sixteen miles' drive, so you
won't be surprised to hear that the news gave me such a start that I
very nearly jumped out of the carriage. And Alick--well, I don't know
whether he was really half a boy or three quarters, but his shout
certainly made you fancy him quite a _whole_ boy at that minute!

Oh, the bright, bright pictures that came tumbling one over another in
one's mind, at the idea of the cottage on the cliff, crabs and shrimps
and shells and sea-weed, and merry, merry waves in one happy muddle! And
do you know, nothing could induce the horses to trot fast enough up the
long drive; they never seemed to consider one bit how much we had to
tell, nor, indeed, how much we had _to do_, in preparation for
to-morrow. What if they had done a good thirty miles since breakfast,
they could stay at home next day and eat hay from morning to night and
leave it to Fairy and Whitefoot to do the hot work for us.