Yes, Caroline had surely possessed something of the simplicity, that quiet, reticent strength of those North Country people. He was conscious now of how much he had relied on her. He got up with a sigh at last, and before he went indoors he made his way to Betty's little garden again. He stooped and touched the rose once more with his lips, but it seemed as if the fragrance had gone from the flower, as if the soft beauty of the garden had lost something. Certain it was that as he slowly moved under the trees he had a sense of loss heavily upon him, as if in the flitting away of that girl's white-robed figure, not merely the little world about him was robbed of a potent charm, but that there had gone with her a sympathy, an influence that all unconsciously had suggested to him consolation. CHAPTER XVIII The sea had gone out a long way, and between the tiny digue and the beach there stretched a large expanse of rich wet sand, broken here and there by large smooth pools which reflected as in a mirror the wondrous opalescent colouring of the sky, made inexpressibly glorious by the sinking of the hot, tired sun. At least Caroline felt that it ought to be tired, it had been shining so fiercely for so many hours. She sat in a low canvas chair on the sands, and watched her two small people scampering here and there absolutely regardless of fatigue. They had their dainty clothes pinned up carefully, and their pretty little legs were burnt dark brown. Betty looked quite tall, especially with her sunny hair bunched on her head. Every now and then Caroline would call-- "Bed-time, chicks." But she said it dreamily, and no one took any notice. She was spellbound by the marvellous beauty of the sea and sky. As the sun descended slowly and reluctantly the world was alive with colour. Fiery streaks of orange, mingled with the tenderest rose-pink flung themselves upwards in the sky, forming a diadem for the departing monarch; and hovering near (creeping every instant closer like ministering spirits) clustered the clouds, some deepest purple, and some misty grey. Below, the sea murmured its evening hymn, whilst its surface caught the reflected pageantry, shifting from one wondrous scheme of colour to another. Caroline's heart contracted with emotion as she watched the golden glory melt into a sea of red, then the red fade into a wondrous mauve, that in its turn glided into turquoise blue; and lastly into the melancholy green that heralded the dark shades of night. It was really growing late; Caroline got up with an effort and called the children. Baby nestled in her arms at once, a flushed and sandy little individual. It was only a few steps fortunately to the annex of the hotel. Betty was taking farewell of an admirer. There was not a masculine heart, even of the tenderest age, that had not succumbed to Betty's fascinations.