is two days of mild
Minorcan dissipation, and Melvyna, beguiled and cajoled by the chaffing
of the two young men, at last consented, and not only packed the
lunch-basket with careful hand, but even donned for the occasion her
"best bonnet," a structure trimmed in Vermont seven years before by the
experienced hand of Miss Althy Spears, the village milliner, who had
adorned it with a durable green ribbon and a vigorous wreath of
artificial flowers. Thus helmeted, Mme. Gonsalvez presided at the stern
of the boat with great dignity. For they were in the safe,
well-appointed little yacht belonging to the two gentlemen, the daring
paroquet having been left at home tied to the last of a low heap of
rocks that jutted out into the water in front of the lighthouse, the
only remains of the old stone dock built by the Spaniards long before.
Sister St. Luke was with them of course, gentle and frightened as usual.
Her breath came quickly as they neared the reef, and Carrington with a
sure hand guided the little craft outside into the surf, and, rounding a
point, landed them safely in a miniature harbor he had noted there.
Keith had counted the days, and felt sure that the answer from the
convent would come soon. His offer--for he had made it his alone without
Carrington's aid--had been liberal; there could be but one reply. The
little Sister would soon go back to the lime-tree, the white rose-bush,
the doves, the old organ that was "so large"--all the quiet routine of
the life she loved so well; and they would see her small oval face and
timid dark eyes no more. So he took her for a last walk down the reef,
while Melvyna made coffee, and Carrington, having noticed a dark line
floating on the water, immediately went out in his boat, of course, to
see what it was.

The reef had its high backbone, like the island. Some day it would be
the island, with another reef outside, and the lighthouse beach would
belong to the mainland. Down the stretch of sand toward the sea the
pelicans stood in rows, toeing a mark, solemn and heavy, by the
hundreds--a countless number--for the reef was their gathering-place.

"They are holding a conclave," said Keith. "That old fellow has the
floor. See him wag his head."

In and out among the pelicans, and paying no attention to them and their
conclave, sped the sickle-bill curlews, actively probing everywhere with
their long, grotesque, sickle-shaped bills; and woe be to the burrowing
things that came in