went to Bruntsea, too late for any train back
again), and casting glances of interior wonder over the unaccustomed
sea--when from the sea itself out-leaped a wondrous rosy deity.

"You there, Mr. Stixon! Oh my! How long?" exclaimed Mrs. Hockin's new
parlormaid, ready to drop, though in full print now, on the landward
steps of the bathing-machine set up by the reckless Major.

"Come this very hinstant, miss, honor bright!" replied the junior
Stixon, who had moved in good society; "and just in the hackmy of time,
miss, if I may offer you my 'umble hand."

The fair nymph fixed him with a penetrating gaze through tresses full
of salt curliness, while her cheeks were conscious of an unclad dip. But
William Stixon's eyes were firm with pure truth, gently toning into shy
reproach and tenderness. He had met her at supper last night, and done
his best; but (as he said to the Castlewood maids) it was only feeling
then, whereas now it was emoshun.

"Then you are a gentleman!" Polly Hopkins cried; "and indeed, Mr.
Stixon, these are slippery things." She was speaking of the steps, as
she came down them, and they had no hand-rails; and the young man felt
himself to be no more Stixon's boy, but a gentleman under sweet refining
pressure.

From that hour forth it was pronounced, and they left the world to its
own opinion, that they were keeping company; and although they were
sixty miles apart by air, and eighty-two by railway, at every post
their hearts were one, with considerable benefit to the United Kingdom's
revenue. Also they met by the sad sea waves, when the bathing-machines
had been hauled up--for the Major now had three of them--as often as
Stixon senior smiled--which he did whenever he was not put out--on the
bygone ways of these children. For Polly Hopkins had a hundred pounds,
as well as being the only child of the man who kept the only shop for
pickled pork in Bruntsea. And my Mr. Stixon could always contrive to get
orders from his lordship to send the boy away, with his carriage paid,
when his health demanded bathing. Hence it is manifest that the deeds
and thoughts of Bruntsea House, otherwise called "Bruntlands,"
were known quite as well, and discussed even better--because
dispassionately--at Castlewood than and as they were at home.

Now I won forever the heart of Stixon's boy, and that of Polly
Hopkins, by recoiling with horror from the thought of going to Bruntsea
unattended. After all my solitary journeys, thi