n a low tone to the little girl, "Be quiet, dear. Take
off your hat, and perhaps you'll be cooler."

Wedged between fat old Mr. Binks and the window, Isobel had sat watching
the whole scene. She was terribly hot, but the crowded carriage and its
miscellaneous occupants only amused her, and she divided her attention
between the quickly passing landscape and her various travelling
companions, stealing frequent glances at the pretty stranger opposite,
who had closed her eyes in languid resignation, having drawn her white
silk skirts as far as possible away from the market-woman, and placed
her pale-blue hat in safety upon her mother's knee. The baby was asleep
at last, worn out with crying, and the trippers were handing round
refreshments--large wedges of pork pie, sticky buns, and cold tea, which
they drank in turns out of a bottle. They pressed these dainties
cordially upon everybody in the carriage, but the only one who consented
to share their hospitality was the market-woman, who remarked audibly
that "_she_ was not proud, however much some folks might stick
theirselves up." In return she produced a couple of apples from her
basket, which she presented to the two little tripper boys, who promptly
quarrelled which should have the bigger, and kicked each other lustily
on the shins, till their father boxed their ears and threatened to send
them home by the next returning train. The pierrot created a diversion
at this point by playing a few selections upon the banjo and singing a
comic song, handing round his tall white hat afterwards for pennies, and
informing the company that they could have the pleasure of hearing him
again any day upon the pier at Ferndale at 11.30 and 3 o'clock prompt.

"I'm glad we're not staying at Ferndale," thought Isobel, "if all these
people are going there! I'm sure Silversands will be ever so much
nicer." And she turned with relief to look out through the open window.

After running for a long distance between high embankments, the train
had at last reached the coast, and Isobel watched with rapture the
sparkling blue sea, the long line of yellow heather-topped cliffs, and
the red sails of the fishing-boats which could be seen on the distant
horizon. On the shore she could catch glimpses of delightful little
pools among the rocks left by the retreating tide, and Mr. Binks, who
seemed to enjoy acting as guide, drew her notice continually to rows of
bathing-vans, children riding donkeys or dig