he
idea. Mr. Fairchild did not often laugh.

'Maybe,' his wife replied, smiling.

'I do hope they'll have a French governess,' said Celestina.

'Who? oh, the Miss Vanes,' said her father. 'Why, you _are_ putting the
cart before the horse, child! We don't even know that the new clergyman
has any daughters--his family may be all boys. Besides, I don't know
when you'd be likely to see them or their governess either.'

'They'd be sure to come to the shop sometimes, father,' Celestina
replied eagerly. 'Even old Mrs. Bunton does--I've often seen her. And
there's no other shop for books and stationery at Seacove.'

Mr. Fairchild smiled at the pride with which she said this.

'It would be a bad job for me if there were,' he said, 'for as it is
there's barely custom for a shop of the kind,' and an anxious look came
over his face. But Mrs. Fairchild reminded him that if they did not
finish the chapter of _Little Arthur_ quickly, it would be Celestina's
bedtime, so the talk changed to the Black Prince and his exploits.

CHAPTER II

THOSE YOUNG LADIES

'Leave me alone--I want to cry;
It's no use trying to be good.'--ANON.

Six weeks or so later--Christmas and New Year's day were past; it was
the middle of January by this time--a little group of children might
have been seen standing on the shore about half a mile from Seacove.

Though midwinter, it was not very cold. There is a theory that it never
is very cold at the seaside. I cannot say that I have always found this
the case, but it was so at Seacove. It lay in a sheltered position, out
of the way of the east wind, and this was one reason why Mr. Vane had
decided to make it for a time the home of himself and his family.

These were his children--the group on the seashore. Rumour had
exaggerated a little in saying he had 'several.' There were but three of
them, and of these three two were girls. So Celestina Fairchild's
thoughts about them had some foundation after all.

'It looks just a little, a very little dreary,' said the eldest of the
three, a girl of thirteen or so, slight and rather tall for her age,
with a pretty graceful figure and pretty delicate features; 'but then of
course it's the middle of winter. Not that spring or summer would make
much difference here; there are so very few trees.'

She glanced round her as she spoke. It was a bare, almost
desolate-looking stretch of country, down to the sea, which was still
and g