'He must rest himself into the power of sleeping. I must say it was
a bold experiment; but it will do very well, when he has got over the
journey. He was doing no good at home.'

'I hope he will here.'

'Depend on it he will. And now what are you intending?'

'I am thirsting to see those waves near. Would it be against the
manners and customs of sea-places for me to run down to them so
late?'

'Sea-places have no manners and customs.'

Ethel tossed on her hat with a feeling of delight and freedom. 'Oh,
are you coming, Dr. Spencer? I did not mean to drag you out. You
had rather rest, and smoke.'

'This is rest,' he answered.

The next moment, the ridge of the shingle was passed, and Ethel's
feet were sinking in the depth of pebbles, her cheeks freshened by
the breeze, her lips salted by the spray tossed in by the wind from
the wave crests. At the edge of the water she stood--as all others
stand there--watching the heaving from far away come nearer, nearer,
curl over in its pride of green glassy beauty, fall into foam, and
draw back, making the pebbles crash their accompanying 'frsch.' The
repetition, the peaceful majesty, the blue expanse, the straight
horizon, so impressed her spirit as to rivet her eyes and chain her
lips; and she receded step by step before the tide, unheeding