Rolls,
Jr., walked straight up to tall Miss Child without being beaten back
by a surf of "C's." To be sure, Miss Carroll was under the same
letter, and observed the approach of Peter with interest, if not
surprise; but she was seated on a trunk at some distance key in hand.
"Well, I'm mighty glad to find you!" exclaimed Peter cordially. "I
began to think it must be a trick of dryads to wait themselves ashore
without waiting for the clumsy old ship to dock."
"I was busy packing this morning," replied the alleged dryad, with a
hard, undryadic expression on her "heart-shaped" face.
"You disappeared so early last night, I'd an idea you were doing your
packing then so as to be up with the dawn and get a good look at the
harbour."
"I could see a great deal from our porthole."
"I shouldn't have thought you were the kind of girl to be satisfied
with portholes," said Peter, hoping to wake up one of her smiles. Her
voice sounded rather tired.
"Beggars mustn't be choosers," was the dry reply.
"But dryads may be," he encouraged her.
"I've left my dryadhood hanging up behind the door." She spoke
sharply, almost irritably, it seemed.
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