so fat and roundabout, and your legs are so short you can scarcely carry
yourself.'

'Rough,' began Rosalys warningly. And

'_Alie_,' began Bridget at the same moment in her whining tone, 'do
listen to him.'

But a peremptory 'Hush' from Randolph checked her. Both the girls looked
up. A short, rather stout, pleasant-faced man was at that moment
overtaking them.

'Good-morning, sir,' he said as he passed, and 'Good-morning, Mr.
Redding,' returned Rough courteously, as the other lifted his hat.
Rough had very nice manners.

'That is Redding, the organist,' said Rough. 'He's something else as
well--a tailor or a draper----'

'"A butcher, a baker, or candlestick-maker,"' interrupted Rosalys
laughingly. She did not mean to make fun of good Mr. Redding, but she
wanted to make the others laugh too, to restore their good humour.

'Well, something, any way,' Randolph went on. 'Papa says he's an awfully
good sort of man; he gives all his spare time to the organ for nothing.'

'That's very nice,' said Alie approvingly.

They were near the actual town of Seacove by this time--town or village,
it was difficult to say which, though the rows of tall masts a little