"You'd better talk to me about something. I don't seem to be a popular favourite." "Yours is the unforgivable sin." "What?" "Youth." "But they are much prettier than I am, every one of them." "I'll take your eyes and your tongue, thanks," he laughed. "Let's take a look at the sunset." They rose. "Where are ye going, you two?" inquired O'Leary. "Sunsetting," replied Isabelle. Then, turning to the ladies, she made a curtsey. "Good afternoon," said she. "Lord, that was wonderful!" exclaimed the Major. "What?"--innocently. "You know what, ye clever little rascal." * * * * * Captain O'Leary got only one of his dances that night, but he announced his intention of taking her to walk on the beach at ten the following morning. When, at that hour, he presented himself to Miss Watts, she looked distressed--thought Isabelle must have misunderstood, for she had gone off to walk with Percy Pollock. The Captain thanked her and set off in pursuit. He was annoyed at himself for being annoyed with this chit of a girl. But she should not play tricks with him! In due course of time he spied them ahead of him. He increased his speed and caught up. "Good morning," he said, briefly. "Oh, good morning, Captain O'Leary," said she. "Miss Watts gave me your message." "Message?" "That you would meet me here. By the way, Pollock, your mother asked me to say that something important came for ye in the morning mails. She wants ye at once." With a firm and masterly hand he detached Percy and sent him off. Then he turned to Isabelle. "Ye can play tricks on Percy and your other youngsters, but not on me." "I haven't the slightest interest in playing tricks on you," she answered. She sat down, opened a parasol, and planted it in the sand. He threw himself down beside her. "You are a very interesting little girl," he remarked, "but you have a great deal to learn." "Teach me!" she exclaimed, with such ingenuous enthusiasm that he was at a loss to know whether she was making fun of him or not. "I will. First, you mustn't be so pricklish." "It's the only way to protect yourself." "Against what?" "People." "Ye start on the basis that people are your enemies?" "I think they are." "Look here, tell me about yourself. What shall I call you? Do I have to say 'Miss Bryce'?" "My name is Isabelle." "Doesn't suit ye. Have ye no pet name?" "Somebody I liked once called me 'the cricket'." "That's it--Cricket--may I call ye that?" "Yes." "Now, Cricket, tell me all about yourself." She looked at him intently for a moment. He lay stretched out on the sand, his elbow crooked to support his head. He looked frankly back at her. "Go on, as friend to friend," he urged.