? Why did he suddenly feel no longer afraid, but only reassured
and with the strangest certainty that the lane, the beach, the field
belonged to him now? He would come there and live when he grew up. He
would come often. Had the Scarlet Admiral passed him? If not the Scarlet
Admiral, then the other.

The sea picnic had, after all, been not quite a misfortune.

Jeremy had been made free of the land.

And Charlotte? Charlotte had been woken up, and never would go to sleep
again.

CHAPTER X. MARY

I

Mary Cole had been, all her life, that thing beloved of the sentimental
novelist, a misunderstood child. She was the only misunderstood member
of the Cole family, and she was misunderstood, as is very often
the case, in a large measure because she was so plain. Had she been
good-looking as Helen, or independent as Jeremy, she would have either
attracted the world in general, or have been indifferent as to whether
she attracted it or not. As it was, she longed to attract everyone, and,
in truth, attracted nobody. She might have found consolation in books
or her own highly-coloured imaginations had it not been for the burning
passions which she formed, at a very early age, for living people. For
some years now her life had centred round her brother Jeremy. Had the
Coles been an observant family they might, perhaps, have found some
pathos in the way in which Mary, with her pale sallow complexion, her
pear-shaped face with its dull, grey eyes, her enormous glasses, her
lanky colourless hair, and her thin, bony figure, gazed at her masculine
and independent brother.

Uncle Samuel might have noticed, but he was occupied with his painting.
For the rest they were not observant. Mary was only seven years of age,
but she had the capacity for being hurt of a person of thirty. She was
hurt by everything and everybody. When somebody said: "Now, Mary, hurry
up. You're always so slow," she was hurt. If Helen told her that she was
selfish, she was hurt, and would sit wondering whether she was selfish
or no. If Mrs. Cole said that she must brush her hair more carefully she
was hurt, and when Jeremy said anything sharp to her she was in agony.
She discovered very quickly that no one cared for her agonies. The Coles
were a plain, matter-of-fact race, and had the day's work to finish.
They had no intention of thinking too much of their children's feelings.
Thirty years ago that was not so popular as it is now. Meanwhile, her
de