"Why, Miss Bishop!" cried Orde, finding his voice. "What are you
doing here?"

A faint shade of annoyance crossed her brow.

"Oh, I could ask the same of you; and then we'd talk about how
surprised we are, world without end," said she. "The important
thing is that here is sand to play in, and there is the Lake, and
here are we, and the day is charmed, and it's good to be alive. Sit
down and dig a hole! We've all the common days to explain things
in."

Orde laughed and seated himself to face her. Without further talk,
and quite gravely, they commenced to scoop out an excavation between
them, piling the sand over themselves and on either side as was most
convenient. As the hole grew deeper they had to lean over more and
more. Their heads sometimes brushed ever so lightly, their hands
perforce touched. Always the dry sand flowed from the edges
partially to fill in the result their efforts. Faster and faster
they scooped it out again. The excavation thus took on the shape of
a funnel. Her cheeks glowed pink, her eyes shone like stars.
Entirely was she absorbed in the task. At last a tiny commotion
manifested itself in the bottom of the funnel. Impulsively she laid
her hand on Orde's, to stop them. Fascinated, they watched. After
incredible though lilliputian upheavals, at length appeared a tiny
black insect, struggling against the rolling, overwhelming sands.
With great care the girl scooped this newcomer out and set him on
the level ground. She looked up happily at Orde, thrusting the
loose hair from in front of her eyes.