PRESENTLY though, just for a time another shadow fell, for it seemed only a very, very little while before it was time for her mother to leave.  
“I wish you could stay all the time, mother,” she whispered eagerly. “Couldn’t you, mother? It would do you good too.”
 
“But, darling, think of poor Priscilla. She will be wanting me, and I know you wouldn’t like to keep me away from her.”
 
Loveday was not quite sure of that at the moment, but she would not have said so; and when she thought of pale, suffering Prissy, she tried hard to choke down any selfish feeling, and to be very brave. “But—you will come again soon, won’t you, mother?”
 
“Yes, darling, very soon; and I expect father will run down to see you in a very little while, and we will always let you know if any of us are coming, so that you can come to meet us. Now, are you going to see me off at the station, or will you stay here and wave your handkerchief to me?”
 
“Oh, please, I’ll go to the station.”
 
They all had tea on the beach outside the cottage, and when that was done it was almost time for Mrs. Carlyon to start on her homeward journey. Bessie was to go to the station too, and take Aaron with her; and Mrs. Carlyon felt pretty sure that by the time Loveday had had the double walk, she would be too tired to much, or feel lonely, or to do anything but go to bed and sleep.
 
She was a very brave little woman, on the whole, considering that she was alone in a strange place, and with people who were almost strangers to her. A few tears did force themselves through her lids, but she did not say anything.
 
“When you get back, darling, you must help Bessie to your box, and you will be able to give Aaron his monkey, then you will be ready for bed, and when you wake up again it will be morning, and you will feel so happy, and there will be so much to see and do, that you will scarcely know what to see and do first. But don’t forget to collect a nice lot of shells for Priscilla.”
 
Then the engine gave two or three snorts and , and a loud whistle—away moved the train, and Loveday found herself left alone.
 
She might have shed a few tears more when the train away—in fact, it is pretty certain that she would have if she had not, at that moment, caught sight of the station-master, and remembered his rude laughter about Shanks’s . He had not caught sight of her yet, and Loveday was anxious to hurry away before he did, and in her eagerness and hurry she quite forgot about her tears and her loneliness; and then it was such fun to watch the ducks and geese on the green, and to make them run at one, and stretch their necks and scream, that she was soon laughing instead of crying; and when they got back there was a boat up on the beach, and that was very exciting, for Mr. Lobb had come back with a big catch of and , and Loveday, after being introduced to him, was for quite a long while fascinated, watching the creatures trying to get out of the great crab-pots which he had brought them home in.
 
“I wish now, missie, as yer ma hadn’t a-been gone, for she could have took home two or three of these, and welcome to ’em.”
 
“Oh, I wish she hadn’t,” said Loveday earnestly. “Father loves lobsters and crabs; he would have been so glad—so would Geoffrey.”
 
“Well, look here now,” said John Lobb good-naturedly. “Bessie’ll bile these presently, and then if she’ll pop one or two into a basket, I’ll take them up and post ’em, and your pa’ll have ’em in time for his breakfast in the morning.”
 
At which Loveday was full of , and thanked her new host very and .
 
So Bessie hurried in to attend to her fire, and as a cold wind was blowing in from the sea, she bade the children follow her.
 
“Now I’ll unpack my box,” thought Loveday, and, Bessie having unstrapped and unlocked it for her, she began. There was a little white chest of drawers in the room, and a big cupboard built into the wall, so that she had plenty of room for her . Her little frocks, though she had quite a lot of them, took up a very small space indeed, but two of her sun-hats covered one shelf of the cupboard, and she had to take another shelf for her best one and her red and blue bérets. Her boots and shoes she arranged very at the bottom of the cupboard—at least Aaron did for her, for by this time he had followed her in, and had grown quite friendly, and he worked really busily until Loveday took out a big monkey and presented it to him, after which he did nothing but gaze at it and hug it with delight, and Loveday, who had been a little shy of offering it to him when she saw how big a boy he was, felt greatly relieved on seeing his pleasure.
 
“After all,” she said to herself, “he isn’t such a very big boy—he is rather a baby, and I am very glad.”
 
Then Bessie came to call them to supper, and soon after that Loveday, holding tight to her elephant, was sound asleep in her snow-white room; and Aaron, still hugging his monkey, was snoring under his gay quilt.
 
“A rare lot of wild beasts we’ve a-got in our little bit of a place to-night,” said John Lobb, with a laugh. “’Tis lucky they b’ain’t given to , or we should be given notice to quit, I reckon!”
 
When Loveday awoke the next morning, the first thing she noticed was the curious dull roar of the sea. Then she opened her eyes and looked about her. The next moment she was out of bed, drawing back her white curtains to look out at the new, wonderful world without. There was little to see, though, from her window, for the cliff rose sheer up, and between the house and the cliff there was only a little bit of fenced-in ground. It was too close under the shadow of the cold rock for anything to grow in it, and the house, though it kept off the wind and the salt spray, also kept off the sun. To make up for this, John Lobb had a piece of garden ground at the top of the cliff, where he worked when he wasn’t out fishing.
 
But when Loveday looked out he was in the yard at the back, examining the nets that were spread on the palings to dry. A moment later, Aaron, still clasping his monkey, ran out and joined his father.
 
“Oh, Aaron is dressed!” thought Loveday. “I ought to be. Why didn’t Bessie call me?”
 
She put her head out of her bedroom door, and called:
 
“Bessie! Bessie! Please can I have my bath! I am sorry I am so late,” she added, as Bessie appeared with the bath and the water.
 
“It isn’t late, Miss Loveday,” said Bessie smilingly. “It has only this minute gone seven by my old clock, and that’s always .”
 
“Only seven!” cried Loveday. “What are you all up so early for? Is anybody going away?”
 
“’Tisn’t early for us, miss. My husband is going out all day fishing, and he’s got to catch the tide.”
 
“There is always something that has got to be caught,” sighed Loveday—“the train, or the tide, or the fish, or the post. But I’m very glad I am up so early, now I am up. I want to go out and see what things are like in the morning. They generally look different then, don’t they?”
 
“Oh dear,” she said quite apologetically, when presently she came to the breakfast-table, “I am afraid I am very hungry. I hope you won’t be frightened when you see what a lot I eat.”
 
She really felt quite ashamed of her big appetite, but John and Bessie only laughed, and John said:
 
“That’s good hearing, missie. Nothing you can do in that way’ll frighten us, seeing ............