s
child enough to feel that that event was far too remote to trouble her
now.

So, with a gay spirit, she piloted her two friends on that summer
morning. No presentiment of evil touched her, no cloud was in her sky.
Gaily she sped along the sunny road, little dreaming that that same sun
that so gladdened her was to set upon the last of her youth.

The car was in a good mood also, and they hummed merrily past the little
stone church of Brethaven and up to the great iron gate of Redlands just
as the clock in the tower struck ten.

"Good business!" commented Nick, as he descended to open the gate. "That
gives me two hours and a half. Don't be later than twelve-thirty, Olga
_mia_, for starting back."

Olga promised, as she dexterously turned the car and ran in up the
drive. He sprang upon the step, and so she brought him to his own door.

"Good-bye, Nick!" she said then, lifting her bright face.

He bent and lightly kissed her. "Good-bye! Don't go and get drowned,
either of you, for my sake! Yes, you can leave the car here. It won't
rain at present."

He stood on his own step and watched them go, with a motherly smile on
his wrinkled face.

"Bless their hearts!" he murmured, as he finally turned away. "I'll
swear it's all a mistake. She looks like a queen this morning; and as
for Olga, if she has really given her heart to that ugly doctor chap I
have never yet seen a woman in love."

He entered the house with the words, and straightway dismissed them
from his mind.

"We will go to the shore first," Violet decreed. "Mrs. Briggs won't be
expecting us so early. I hear that some more of the Priory land has been
slipping into the sea. We must go and see it."

So to the shore they went. The slip was not a serious one. They made
their way to the spot over loose sand and rocks, and dropped down in a
sandy hollow to rest.

"Poor old Priory!" said Violet. "It's sure to be swallowed up like the
rest some day. I wonder if I shall live to see it."

"Oh, surely not!" said Olga.

Violet laughed. "Do you think I am destined to die young then?"

"I can't imagine you dying or growing old," said Olga, with simplicity.

"My dear, what gross flattery!" Violet laughed again, her eyes upon the
glittering sea. "Immortal youth! How divine it sounds! Allegro, I should
hate to be old." She stretched out her arms to the sky-line. "I want to
keep young for ever," she said. "Do you really think I shall? I
sometimes think--" she paus