going out to mine to get the lobsters. Out there where
those little specks of white are bobbing 'round on the water--don't
you see?"

"I see some little specks--yes, they're a-bobbing! Are those _traps?_"

"Mercy, no! The traps are sunk 'way down to the bottom o' the sea!
Those are nothing but the little wooden floats that tell me where the
traps are. I couldn't go hunting all over the bay, you know."

"No--oh, no, you couldn't go hunting all over the bay," repeated the
small, puzzled voice. The Dainty One was distinctly interested. "I
s'pose, prob'ly, every one of those little white specks has got a
fish line to it. I hope they've all got _bites_. Oh, my suz! Here
comes Elise. Elise is always a-coming!" with a long sigh.

Elise was slender and tall, in cap and apron. She walked with the
stride of authority. A frown of displeasure was getting visibler and
visibler on her face, the child noticed with another sigh. Elise was
'most always a-frowning.

"Good-by. I--I guess I'd better go and meet her," the Dainty One said
hurriedly. "She isn't quite as cross when you go and meet her. It
helps."

But the child came back again to Judith Lynn. She held out one little
sun-browned, sea-browned hand.

"I'm happy to have seen you," she said, with soft graciousness, as if
Judith were a duchess in laces instead of a boy-girl in fisherman's
togs. "I'd be pleased to see you some more. I like you."

"Oh!" stammered the boy-girl in fisherman's togs, a flush of pleasure
reddening her brown face. No one had even said "I'd be pleased to see
you," to her before, though Blossom, of course, _was_ always pleased.
No one but Blossom had ever said, "I like you," and Blossom's way
was, "I love you."

"I must go--she's 'most here," went on the child, rather anxiously.
"But first I wish you'd tell me who Blossom is. You spoke about
Blossom, didn't you?"

"Yes. She's my little sister. Her regular name is Janet. It's only me
calls her Blossom."

"Oh, but that's lots the prettiest name! _I'm_ going to call her
that, too. I'd be pleased to see Blossom. Is she about my tallness?"

Judith's face had undergone one of its swift changes. It had grown
defensive and a little fierce. She should not see Blossom!--this other
child who could walk away over the sand to meet Elises, whoever
Elises were. She should not see Blossom! Blossom should not see her!

"But, maybe--prob'ly she's a baby--"

"No, she's six. She'd be about as tall as you are, i