ot fifty feet from their front
windows the shining waves were even now dashing madly toward them as if
in tumultuous welcome.

The servants were already installed, and the open doors seemed to invite
the family to come in and make themselves at home.

"Let's go straight bang through the whole house," said King, "and then
outdoors afterward."

"All right," agreed Marjorie, and in their usual impetuous fashion, the
two raced through the house from attic to cellar, though there really
wasn't any attic, except a sort of low-ceiled loft. However, they
climbed up into this, and then down through the various bedrooms on the
second floor, and back to the first floor, which contained the large
living-room, a spacious hall, and the dining-room and kitchen.

"It's all right," said King, nodding his head in approval. "Now outside,
Midget."

Outside they flew, and took stock of their surroundings. Almost an acre
of ground was theirs, and though as yet empty of special interest, King
could see its possibilities.

"Room for a tennis court," he said; "then I guess we'll have a big
swing, and a hammock, and a tent, and----"

"And a merry-go-round," supplemented Mr. Maynard, overhearing King's
plans.

"No, not that, Father," said Marjorie, "but we _can_ have swings and
things, can't we?"

"I 'spect so, Mopsy. But with the ocean and the beach, I doubt if you'll
stay in this yard much."

"Oh, that's so; I forgot the ocean! Come on, Father, let's go and look
at it."

So the three went down to the beach, and Marjorie, who hadn't been to
the seashore since she was a small child, plumped herself down on the
sand, and just gazed out at the tumbling waves.

"I don't care for the swings and things," she said. "I just want to stay
here all the time, and dig and dig and dig."

As she spoke she was digging her heels into the fine white sand, and
poking her hands in, and burying her arms up to her dimpled elbows.

"Oh, Father, isn't it gee-lorious! Sit down, won't you, and let us bury
you in sand, all but your nose!"

"Not now," said Mr. Maynard, laughing. "Some day you may, when I'm in a
bathing suit. But I don't care for pockets full of sand. Now, I'm going
back to home and Mother. You two may stay down here till luncheon time
if you like."

Mr. Maynard went back to the house, and King and Marjorie continued
their explorations. The beach was flat and smooth, and its white sand
was full of shells, and here and there a few bits