danced up and down and clapped her hands in triumph.

She was right. She had gained a complete victory. Just at the extreme end
of the promontory a gentle wave, peaceful, pretty, and graceful, curled
up against the solid rock. It had scarcely retired in bashful innocence
when another wave tumbled after it. They looked like charming
playfellows. Then came a third, then a fourth and a fifth. Faster and
faster they rolled in, flowing up the white sands and making a white foam
round the rock.

The little Carvers stood still, transfixed with a curious mingling of
delight, excitement, and horror. Pen ceased to jump up and down.
Presently she ceased to laugh. She was only a very small girl, and did
not in the least realize her danger; nevertheless, as she used her eyes
to good purpose, and as she quickly perceived that the opposite side of
the bay was now shut away by a great body of water, it did occur to her
that they would have to stay in their present shelter for some time.
Harry turned round slowly. Harry was ten years old, and he understood. He
had heard his father talk of the dangerous White Bay. He went straight up
to Pen, and, taking her hand, burst out crying.

"It don't matter," he said--"it don't matter whether we are good or
whether we are bad. We can none of us ever go to the Zoo again. Nellie
and I won't ever go any more, and you can never go at all."

"What do you mean?" asked Pen.

Her heart began to beat fast and loud.

"What do you mean? Oh, you dreadful bad----"

"Don't call names," said Harry. "You will be sorry by-and-by; and
by-and-by comes soon. We have got to be drowned, all three of us."

CHAPTER XXII.

"OUR FATHER" IS BEST.

Pauline and Verena found Miss Tredgold waiting for them. They went into
the shop, which was quite one of the best shops in the High Street. There
Miss Tredgold asked to see hats, and presently the two girls and their
aunt were absorbed in the fascinating occupation of trying on new
headgear. Miss Tredgold was buying a very pretty hat for herself also. It
was to be trimmed with lace and feathers, and Verena had a momentary
sense of disappointment that she was to have nothing so gay to wear on
her own head. The attendant who was serving them made a sudden remark.

"Yes, ma'am," she said, "this little brown hat trimmed with velvet will
exactly suit the dark young lady." Here she looked at Pauline. "And I
should venture to suggest a very little cream-colored lace