n and her
little low soft shoes. She did not stop to brush out her hair and braid
it again, for it was very early and no one would see. She put over her
head the white lace scarf she had worn to the wedding, took her white
knitted shawl, and went downstairs so quietly that Aunt Miriam did not
hear her.

She unbolted the door noiselessly and went out, closing it carefully
after her. On the top step was a very small package, tied with string,
and a letter addressed, simply, "To Barbara." She recognised it as a
book and a note from Roger--he had done such things before. She did not
want to go back, so she tucked it under her arm and went on.

It seemed so strange to be going out of her gate alone and in the dark!
Barbara was thrilled with a sense of adventure and romance which was
quite new to her. This journeying into unknown lands in pursuit of
unknown waters had all the fascination of discovery.

[Sidenote: An Autumn Dawn]

She went down the road faster than she had ever walked before. She was
not at all tired and was eager for the sea. The Autumn dawn with its
keen, cool air stirred her senses to new and abounding life. She went on
and on and on, pausing now and then to lean against somebody's fence, or
to rest on a friendly boulder when it appeared along the way.

Faint suggestions of colour appeared in the illimitable distances
beyond. Barbara saw only a vast, grey expanse, but the surf murmured
softly on the shadowy shore. Crossing the sand, and stumbling as she
went, she stooped and dipped her hand into it, then put her rosy
forefinger into her mouth to see if it were really salt, as everyone
said. She sat down in the soft, cool sand, drew her white knitted shawl
and lace scarf more closely about her, and settled herself to wait.

[Sidenote: Sunrise on the Sea]

The deep purple softened with rose. Tints of gold came far down on the
horizon line. Barbara drew a long breath of wonder and joy. Out in the
vastness dark surges sang and crooned, breaking slowly into white foam
as they approached the shore. Rose and purple melted into amethyst and
azure, and, out beyond the breakers, the grey sea changed to opal and
pearl.

Mist rose from the far waters and the long shafts of leaping light
divided it by rainbows as it lifted. Prismatic fires burned on the
boundless curve where the sky met the sea. Wet-winged gulls, crying
hoarsely, came from the night that still lay upon the islands near
shore, and circled out a