l polished up, flags flying, the sun brilliant on the
green water of the estuary and on the blue water of the ponds beyond
that were ruffled with the wind. Then, just below her, came in the
ferry-boat. She thought she would cross (though that was not the way
to Seaford). When she got to the other side, the slopes leading up to
the fort seemed temptingly high; she knew that from the summit of the
downs this morning one would have a splendid view. And so, perhaps
from mere habit, she took the old familiar road--past the coastguard
station, past the pools of ruffled water, up the valley by the
farmstead, and so on to the high and solitary downs overlooking the
wide moving, shining sea.

Brighton ought to be fair and beautiful on such a morning as this;
perhaps by-and-by she might come to have a glimpse of the pale yellow
terraces of the distant town. No doubt by this time Edith and Madge
were on the pier--Madge with her red skirt and black sealskin coat.
Madge always dressed smartly--perhaps even a trifle boldly. The band
would be playing now. In the sheltered places it would be almost warm;
there you could sit down and talk and watch the ships go by. She
supposed that in course of time they would go back for luncheon. That
was always a merry meal at home. They generally had visitors whom they
had met casually--on the pier, or in the King's Road.

So Nan was thinking and dreaming as she walked idly along, when her
attention was suddenly arrested by a sound as of music. She looked
round; there was no human being in sight; and the telegraph wires,
which sometimes deceived the ear, were far too far away. Then as she
went on again, she discovered whence the sound proceeded--from a little
wooden hut facing the sea, which had probably been erected there as a
shelter for the coastguardsmen. As she drew nearer, she recognised the
staccato twanging of a guitar; so she made sure this was Singing Sal.
She drew nearer still--her footsteps unheard on the smooth turf--and
then she discovered that Sal was singing away to herself, not for
amusement, as was her wont, but for practice. There were continual
repetitions. Nan got quite close to the hut, and listened.

Singing Sal was doing her very best. She was singing with very great
effect; and she had a hard, clear voice that could make itself heard,
if it was not of very fine quality. But what struck Nan was the clever
fashion in which this woman was imitating the Newca