the postmaster and one or two others. It might be advisable to
put a card in the circulating library at St. Helier's. Rest assured
that both Mrs. Angus and I will do all we can for your father's girls.
Lionel and I were good friends at Oxford though we saw so little of
each other afterwards. I did not think when he wrote me scarcely
six weeks ago that it was to be Hail and Farewell.

"I must go," he added quickly, seeing that Estelle's eyes were
brimming. "Where is Edith? I hoped to see her also."

"She has gone to the sands," replied Estelle. "It is dull for her,
moping here, so I sent her for an errand and told her to run down
and see whether the tide had turned. She begins school on Monday."

Mr. Angus took his leave, and still looking doubtful, went down
the steps of Rose Villa, a quaint little house, covered with
tinted plaster, as is the pretty custom of the Channel Islands,
and appearing even to a masculine ignorance of details much more
neat and attractive than its neighbors.

So Mr. Angus thought, as he turned from his puzzled survey of its
exterior, to walk slowly down the short street at the end of which
glittered the waters of the English Channel.

The tide was on the turn but the expanse of sandy beach lay yet
broad. Far toward St. Helier's the curve of the port showed the
high sea-wall, for this same innocent-looking tide that ebbs and
leaves behind miles of sandy stretches and rocks, can return with
force sufficient to dash over even the lofty breakwater and
surprise the placid Jerseymen at times, by scattering large stones