Warringborns selling their land and Mrs. Graham letting her maid go to
dances on the promenade, with a powdered face and a latch-key.

_Chapter II_

_Caroline_

The promenade at Thorhaven was reached by a short, wide street where a
wind blew always, even on the stillest days, and the hall in which the
young people of the little town danced weekly stood straight in front
of the approaching visitor, entirely blocking out the view and the sea.
Some people thought this must have happened by accident, but others
felt sure that some subtle brain on the Urban District Council had
correctly gauged what the cherished Visitor--the Council naturally
thought of him or her with a capital letter--really considered a most
important feature of an up-to-date seaside resort.

The hall itself was a glass erection, and it was in design so like
those miniature forcing-houses placed over cherished plants in a garden
border that no one with any imagination could avoid feeling momentarily
that it must have been placed there by some good-natured giant--well
disposed towards Thorhaven--for the express purpose of making the
Visitor "come on" during the seaside holiday.

At the entrance gate stood a sort of sentry-box where two girls sat in
turn from ten to ten. These girls were chosen by an optimistic
Committee who hoped they would possess amiability, endurance, and
particularly a gift for remembering faces: because the inhabitants of
Thorhaven felt that their promenade was first of all _theirs_--and that
no assistant employed at the gate had a right _not_ to know them by
sight when they entered the precincts for which their own rates and
taxes had paid. Therefore--though this led to occasional abuse--it was
found necessary to municipal harmony to let inhabitants in "on the nod."

Two young ladies of blameless reputation who were supposed to possess
the required gifts had already been engaged for the season. One had
filled the post before, and another was new to the job but promising.
But time and love wait on the convenience of none--not even so
important a body as the Thorhaven Amusements Committee--and girl number
one unexpectedly ran away with a ship's engineer, while girl number two
developed bronchial tendencies which made the pay-box unsuitable. So
there were none.

On this bleak, bright day at the end of March, the pay-box with the
wind howling round it did indeed look a bracing place to spend the day
in, nor was it by