that granny was really nervous, Lucy led the talk to other
things, though, in that little place, with nothing to break the force of
the wind, or deaden the noise of the waves, it was not easy to get one's
mind away from either. "I don't suppose it is very bad, really," said
Lucy, comfortingly. "It always sounds a lot here, but the men laugh at me
when I talk of 'the gale' blowing. 'You must wait till you hear the real
thing,' they say. But I tell them I have heard the real thing, and it
began quietly enough. Now, Mona, you and I will put away the tea things,
shall we?"

"You won't go home before you really need to, will you?" asked granny.
"It'll be a long and wearying time you'll have alone there, waiting for
morning. Oh, I wish it was morning now," she added, almost passionately,
"and the night over, and the storm. I do long for rest."

Lucy looked at her anxiously, surprised by the feeling in her voice. "Why,
mother! you mustn't worry yourself like that. It's nothing of a wind yet,
and it may die down again quite soon. I think it was a mistake letting
you come to live on this side of the road, where you feel the wind so much
more. If I were you I'd move up nearer to us the first time there's a
place to let. You feel just as I do about the storms, and it's only those
that do who understand how hard it is to bear."

Granny nodded, but she did not answer. She turned to Mona. "Wouldn't you
like to go for a run before bedtime?" she asked. "The air'll do you good,
and help you to sleep."

"I didn't want her to get nervous just before bedtime," she confided to
Lucy when Mona had gone. "I try not to let her see how nervous I get--but
sometimes one can't help but show it."

Mona did not need any urging. Her thoughts were full of Miss Lester's
coming marriage and her own plans for it, and ever since she had heard the
news she had been longing to go out and spread it and talk it over.

"Patty ought to wear blue, to match her eyes; Millie will be sure to
choose pink, she has had such a fancy for pink ever since she had that
print frock."

But when she reached the Quay she met with disappointment. There was
hardly anyone there but some boys playing 'Prisoners.' Certainly it was
not very tempting there that evening, the wind was cold and blustery, and
both sea and sky were grey and depressing. Mona was glad to come away
into the shelter of the street.

She looked about her for someone to talk to, but, see