Whenever they went out, the girls kept a close watch for the "collie
lady" and the "beach dog." Twice Tylo came to hail them on the
sands, once apparently entirely alone. The other time he merely
greeted them and bounded away to rejoin two riders on the road.
One was his lady, her companion a slender young man of distinctly
foreign aspect, dark and distinguished-looking. Their horses were
walking slowly, the riders engaged in deep conversation and the
beach dog's mistress did not see the eager faces of the girls.

They talked a good deal about her, wondering who she was, where
she lived and whether they would ever know her. After seeing her
on horseback, they fell more and more under the spell of her charm
and began to picture her the heroine of all sorts of stories.

Day-dreams and romantic stories however, had but a small place in
a world so busily filled with lessons of various kinds. One
Tuesday evening, Frances was openly groaning over the need of
writing an essay upon Julius Caesar.

"Wouldn't you like him better if you saw something he did?"
inquired Win, hearing her lamentations. "There's a castle in
Jersey, part of which he built."

Fran's eyes opened incredulously and Roger whistled. "Is that one
of Bill Fish's yarns?" he demanded.

"Ante-dates him," replied Win. "It's Mont Orgueil, over the other
side of the island. Let's have a picnic there to-morrow, take our
lunch and stay all day. Mother, you must come. Don't say you've
promised to make calls."