Edna A Brown

The Spanish Chest Edna A Brown

"I must go," he added quickly, seeing that Estelle's eyes were brimming. "Where is Edith? I hoped to see her also." "She has gone to the sands," replied Estelle. "It is dull for her, moping here, so I sent her for an errand and told her to run down and see whether the tide had turned. She begins school on Monday." Mr. Angus took his leave, and still looking doubtful, went down the steps of Rose Villa, a quaint little house, covered with tinted plaster, as is the pretty custom of the Channel Islands, and appearing even to a masculine ignorance of details much more neat and attractive than its neighbors. So Mr. Angus thought, as he turned from his puzzled survey of its exterior, to walk slowly down the short street at the end of which glittered the waters of the English Channel. The tide was on the turn but the expanse of sandy beach lay yet broad.