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"It's like that now," Garth said. "I wonder if they're doing it to-night, standing on the dunes and looking at the town."

"Perhaps they are," said Joan, "though I think that it happened a long time ago."

"I wish we had Fogger's green book here," Garth said; "though it's too dark to read, even by the firelight."

"I think that I could say one of those poems," said Joan rather diffidently. "I learned some of them. Your father writes such splendid ones."

"Oh, do say them, then! You're so nice, Joan; you don't need to carry books around with you all the time."