they called it--a reflux, that is, of the inflowing waters, which was quite
sufficient to carry those who could not swim out into the great deep, and
rendered much exertion necessary, even in those who could, to regain the
shore. But there was a fine strong Cornish woman to take charge of the
ladies and the little boys, and she, watching the ways of the wild monster,
knew the when and the where, and all about it.

Connie got out upon the downs every day. She improved in health certainly,
and we thought a little even in her powers of motion. The weather continued
superb. What rain there was fell at night, just enough for Nature to wash
her face with and so look quite fresh in the morning. We contrived a dinner
on the sands on the other side of the bay, for the Friday of this same
week.

The morning rose gloriously. Harry and Charlie were turning the house
upside down, to judge by their noise, long before I was in the humour to
get up, for I had been reading late the night before. I never made much
objection to mere noise, knowing that I could stop it the moment I pleased,
and knowing, which was of more consequence, that so far from there being
anything wrong in making a noise, the sea would make noise enough in our
ears before we left Kilkhaven. The moment, however, that I heard a
thread of whining or a burst of anger in the noise, I would interfere at
once--treating these just as things that must be dismissed at once. Harry
and Charlie were, I say, to use their own form of speech, making such a row
that morning, however, that I was afraid of some injury to the house or
furniture, which were not our own. So I opened my door and called out--

"Harry! Charlie! What on earth are you about?"

"Nothing, papa," answered Charlie. "Only it's so jolly!"