"Where is she?" he interrupted, turning his head
and looking anxiously up the beach.

"Gone home. Oh, I fixed that. I was scared to
death for a minute, but you trust me when I want
to get off."

"Why didn't you let her take that beast of a dog
with her? We don't want him," he rejoined, pointing
to Meg, who had come to a sudden standstill
at the sight of Bart.

"Why, you silly! That's how I got away. She
thought I was going to give him a bath. How long
have you been waiting, my precious?" Her hand
was on his shoulder now, her eyes raised to his.

"Oh, 'bout a year. It really seems like a year,
Luce" (his pet name for her), "when I'm waiting
for you. I was sure something was up. Wait till
I open the door." The two turned toward the house.

"Why! can we get in? I thought Fogarty, the
fisherman, had the key," she asked, with a tone of
pleasant surprise in her voice.

"So he has," he laughed. "Got it now hanging
up behind his clock. I borrowed it yesterday and
had one made just like it. I'm of age." This
came with a sly wink, followed by a low laugh of