g." He passed on.

The two young people waited for the doctor at the breakfast-table, but
Mr. Barlow did not keep him long; then passed the usually silent meal to
its close, but not before Dick peeped in at the rose-wreathed window,
and intimated by sundry nods that Jenny and the donkey and cart were
waiting outside in the lane. Away went the busy doctor into the passage,
just as Inna was saying--

"Oscar, you haven't told uncle--you ought, you know."

So Oscar, in the spirit of obedience for once, followed him.

"Uncle, may I and Inna go with Dick Gregory and his sister to Swallow's
Cliff to-day?" he asked.

"Swallow's Cliff--that's rather a long walk for a young lady."

"Only three miles, sir, as the crow flies," put in Dick, appearing from
somewhere.

"Yes; but as you're not crows, and can't fly, into the bargain, 'twould
mean more than that to you--or rather, 'tis Inna I'm thinking of," still
objected the doctor.

"You forget the donkey-cart, Dr. Willett; the young ladies will
ride--all of them," observed Dick.

"All?" the doctor stood ready to start.

"Yes, sir; there are four of them: the mid----, Madame Giche's nieces,
Miss Inna, and my sister Jenny."

"Well, I suppose I mustn't be a bear, and say no." Dr. Willett wheeled
round upon Oscar. "Yes, I've no objection; only take good care of the
little girls. A pleasant day to you." The busy physician was gone.

Now a tempest of preparation swept through the house for a few minutes;
then Mrs. Grant stood on the steps at the front door to watch them off.
Dick touched up old Rameses, and drove along the lane with a flourish.
Picking up the midges at the Owl's Nest gates, with many injunctions
from Rance to take good care of her charges, they made the best of their
way onward, not exactly as the crow flies, but taking all the short
cuts adventurous wheels could roll over: the more jolts and bumps the
more the merriment; Jenny driving, the boys on foot. So, without hitch
or hindrance, the sea was reached.

A glorious sight it was: not smooth, calm, and still, but with a
beautiful ripple breaking over it, with glad little waves running here
and there--just the mood to please the children. They all kept to the
boundary-line of shore; there was to be no boating, no bathing: the boys
had bound themselves by promise to Mrs. Grant that there were to be no
seaside pranks or dangerous doings.

"No; no one shall come to a watery grave or an untimely end, if I can