She stood waiting for them on the beach, her old dog Jack beside her, a smile of welcome in her eyes, and the sunlight on her cheeks. Hebe herself--who remained always fifteen from prehistoric times until the melancholy catastrophe of the fourth century, when, with the other Olympians, she was snuffed out--was not sweeter, more dainty, or stronger, or more vigorous of aspect. 'I thought you would come across this morning,' she said. 'I went to the top of the hill and looked out, and presently I saw your boat. You have not ventured out alone again, I see. Good-morning, Roland Lee! Good-morning, Dick Stephenson!' She called them thus by their Christian names, not with familiarity, but quite naturally, and because when she went into the world--that is to say, to Bryher Church--on Sunday afternoon, each called unto each by his Christian name. And to each she gave her hand with a smile of welcome. But it seemed to Dick, who was observant rather than jealous, that his companion appropriated to himself and absorbed both smiles. 'Shall I show you Samson? Have you seen the islands yet?' No; they had only arrived two days before, and were going back the next day. 'Many do that,' said the girl. 'They stay here a day or two: they go across to Tresco and see the gardens: then perhaps they walk over Sallakey Down, and they see Peninnis and Porthellick and the old church, and they think they have seen the islands. You will know nothing whatever about Scilly if you go to-morrow.' 'Why should we go to-morrow?' asked the artist. 'Tell me, that, Dick.' 'I, because my time is up, and Somerset House once more expects me. You, my friend,' Dick replied, with meaning, 'because you have got your work to do and you must not fool around any longer.' Roland Lee laughed. 'We came first of all,' he said, turning to Armorel, 'in order to thank you for----' 'Oh! you thanked me last night. Besides it was Peter----' 'No, no. I refuse to believe in Peter.' 'Well, do not let us say any more about it. Come with me.'