shouldered figure
moving leisurely along the sand.

He hears the well-known voice, and turns instantly.

"Well, he may make himself useful to-day," remarks Claude, with a sudden
inspiration. "I daresay he'll be glad enough to row to the cove if we
ask him."

Tim is more than glad, he is delighted to be included in the plans of
Claude and Bee. To tell the truth, Sunday afternoon is generally rather
a lonesome time to Tim Crooke. He has no vocation for Sunday-school
teaching, and always feels intensely grateful to Mr. Carey for not
bothering him to take a class. The little vicarage is, however, a dreary
house when master and servants are out; and Tim is usually to be found
wandering on the shore till the hour for tea.

"Bill Drake is down yonder," says Tim, waving his hand towards a block
of stone some distance off. "And he's got a little boat, a battered old
thing, but----"

"Any old thing will do," interrupts Claude, rising eagerly. "We are not
going to show off in front of the pier, you know; we only want to get
away to White Cove and enjoy ourselves. Do you know the place, Crooke?"

"Yes, very well. I've been there several times with Mr. Carey; it's a
wonderful place for gulls. I suppose there are thousands of them."

"Well, come along," cries Claude; and Bee springs gladly to her feet. It
delights her to see the magnificent Empey growing so friendly with that
good old Tim, and as she trips on, leaving dainty footprints on the
sands, her mind is busy with plans for the coming days. "This is only
the beginning of pleasures," she says to herself; the holidays will last
a long time, and they can enjoy many excursions about the coast. It is
all going to be perfectly jolly, now that Claude has really consented to
accept Tim; for Tim is so good-natured and useful that she hardly knows
what they would do without him.

The little boat is a battered old thing indeed, but nobody is inclined
to find fault with it. Bill Drake is quite ready to let the young
gentleman have his way; Bee steps in lightly enough, and seats herself;
the lads follow, and then Tim pushes off, leaving Bill standing grinning
on the shore.

A happy girl is Bee Jocelyn as the boat glides on, and the fresh air
fans her face. She has put on her broad-brimmed hat again; and the light
breeze lifts her bright silky tresses, and spreads them round her head
like a golden veil. She dips one little hand in the water--the beautiful
sunny water that is as g