come by and touched her eyelids and she had fallen fast asleep.

But she was thoroughly wide awake now, and she looked round her with a
rather startled expression, realising that she must have slept for some
considerable time, for the sun, which had been high in the heavens, had
already dipped towards the horizon and was shedding a rosy track of light
across the surface of the water. The tide, too, had come up a long way
since she had dozed off into slumber, and waves were now breaking only a
few yards distant from her feet.

She cast a hasty glance to right and left, where the arms of the little
cove stretched out to meet the sea, strewn with big boulders clothed in
shell and seaweed. But there were no rocks to be seen. The grey water
was lapping lazily against the surface of the cliff itself and she was
cut off on either side.

For a minute or so her heart beat unpleasantly fast; then, with a quick
sense of relief, she recollected that only at spring tides was the little
bay where she stood entirely under water. There was no danger, she
reflected, but nevertheless her position was decidedly unenviable. It
was not yet high tide, so it would be some hours at least before she
would be able to make her way home, and meanwhile the sun was sinking
fast, it was growing unpleasantly cold, and she was decidedly hungry. In
the course of another hour or two she would probably be hungrier still,
but with no nearer prospect of dinner, while the Rector and Joan would be
consumed with anxiety as to what had become of her.

Anxiously she scanned the sea, hoping she might sight some homing
fishing-boat which she could hail, but no welcome red or brown sail broke
the monotonous grey waste of water, and in hopes of warming herself a