le in
danger do, as a rule, they say in the books; but I never even thought
of it."

The tide had seemed to come in galloping like a racehorse, but now it
crawled out like a snail; and they were both so utterly worn, that
when at last the water was shallow enough, they just sank down and sat
in it, leaning against each other, and yearning for what seemed to
them the most desirable thing on earth at that moment--a dry spot on
which to stretch themselves out and go to sleep.

"I know now what exhaustion is," said Beth, with her head on Alfred's
shoulder.

"Do you know, Beth," he rejoined with a wan smile, "you've been
picking up information ever since you fell acquainted with me here. I
can count a dozen new experiences you've mentioned already. If you go
on like this always, you'll know everything in time."

"I hope so!" Beth muttered. "Fell acquainted with you, isn't bad; but
I wonder if _tumbled_ wouldn't have been better----"

She dozed off uncomfortably before she could finish the sentence. He
had settled himself with his head against the uncertain cliff, which
beetled above them ominously; but they were both beyond thinking or
caring about it. Vaguely conscious of each other, and of the sea-voice
that gradually grew distant and more distant as the water went out
beyond the headland, leaving them stranded in the empty cove, they
rested and slept uneasily, yet heavily enough to know little of the
weary while they had to wait before they could make their escape.

For it was not until the sun had set and the moon hung high above the
sea in a sombre sky, that at last they were able to go.

CHAPTER XXVII

It was dark night when Beth got back to the little house in Orchard
Street. She had hoped to slip in unobserved, but her mother was
looking out for her.

"Where have you been?" she demanded angrily.

Beth had come in prepared to tell the whole exciting story, but this
reception irritated her, and she answered her mother in exactly the
same tone: "I've been at Fairholm."

"What have you been doing there?" Mrs. Caldwell snapped.

"Getting myself into a mess, as any one might see who looked at me,"
Beth rejoined. "I must go and change."

"You can go to bed," said her mother.

"Thank you," said Beth, and went off straight away.

Mrs. Caldwell would have liked to have followed her, and given her a
good beating, as in the old days, had she dared. Her harshness,
however, had much the same effect upon