er which filled her face as he talked. Absorbed in
one another, they paid no heed to the passing of the hours; and the
sudden fall of twilight surprised them.

They began to speculate whether Uncle Richard had had enough of his
gambling, and would come and fetch her. But, even now, Elsie was not
impatient, so inured had she been to neglect. She only looked anxious
again. Tinker, on the other hand, was impatient, very impatient, with
Uncle Richard, whom he was disposed to regard as a gentleman in great
need of a kicking. Moreover, the chill hour after sunset, so dangerous
on that littoral, was upon them, and he considered with disquiet the
thin stuff of the child's frock.

Presently he said abruptly, "I've promised my father to wear an
overcoat during the fever hour. I must be off and get it, and a wrap
for you. You won't be frightened, if I leave you alone?"

"No," Elsie said bravely, but her tone belied the word.

"Well, walk up and down quickly, so that you don't get a chill. If you
keep near the seat, your uncle can't miss you if he comes."

"Very well," said Elsie, rising obediently. "Only--only--if you could
get back soon."

"I will," said Tinker, and he bolted for the hotel.

Elsie walked up and down, trying to feel brave, but the odd shapes
which the bushes assumed in the dim light daunted her not a little, and
she strove to drive away the fancy that she saw people lurking among
them. Tinker was gone a bare seven minutes; but to the timid child it
seemed a very long while, and she welcomed his return with a gasp of
relief.

He wore a smart, close-fitting brown racing overcoat, which reached to
his ankles; and for her he brought his fur-lined ulster.

"Here I am," he said cheerfully. "Get into this," and he held out the
ulster.

She put her arms into the sleeves, and he drew it around her and
buttoned it up.

"You are a kind boy," she said, with a little break in her voice. A
sudden strong but inexplicable impulse moved Tinker; he bent forward
and kissed her on the lips.

While you might count a score the children stood quite still, staring
at one another with eyes luminous in the starlight. Elsie's face was
one pink flush, and Tinker was scarlet.

"That--that was a very funny kiss," she said in a curious voice.

"Oh, what's a kiss?" said Tinker, with forced bravado, consumed with
boyish shame for the lapse.

"I--I--liked it," said Elsie. "No one has kissed me since father
died."