The storm died away with the coming of evening, but a great sea still broke upon
the island beach and floated up the estuary. Andrew stood outside his door and
looked across toward the mainland with a perplexed frown. It was barely a
hundred yards crossing, but it was certain that no boat could live for half the
distance. Jeanne, who had recovered her spirits, stood by his side, and smiled as
she saw the white crested waves come rolling up.
"It is beautiful, this," she declared. "Do you not love to feel the spray on your
cheeks, Mr. Andrew? And how salt it smells, and fresh!"
"That is all very well," Andrew answered, "but I am wondering how we are going
to get over to the other side there."
"I do not think," she answered, "that it will be possible for a long, long time. You
will have to take me as a lodger whether you want to or not. I would not trust
myself in a boat even with you, upon a sea like that."
"It will be high tide in half an hour," Andrew said, "and the sea will go down fast
"It may not," she answered hopefully. "I rather believe that there is another storm
"There will be no dinner for you," he warned her.
"That I can endure cheerfully," she declared. "I am sick of dinners. I hate them.
They come much too soon, and one has always the same things to eat. I am
quite sure that I shall dine quite nicely with you, Mr. Andrew."
