"I was waiting for you," said she. "I wanted to see how that hat fitted, and I think it does nicely. And I wanted to tell you that I have been looking out for ships, but have not seen one. I don't mean by that that I want you to go away almost as soon as you have come, but of course, if a merchant ship should anchor here, it would be dreadful for you not to know."
"I am not sure," said Dickory gallantly, "that I am in a hurry for a ship. It is truly very pleasant here."
"What makes it pleasant?" said the girl.
Dickory hesitated for a moment. "The breeze from the forest," said he.
She laughed. "It is charming," she said, "but there are so many places where there is just as good a breeze, or perhaps better. How I would like to go to some one of them! To me this island is lonely and doleful.
Every time I look over the sea for a ship I hope that one will come that can carry us away."
"Then," said Dickory, "I wish a ship would come to-morrow and take us all away together."
She shook her head. "As my father told you," said she, "we have no place to go to."
Dickory thought a good deal about the sad condition of the family of this worthy marooner. He thought of it even after he had stretched himself for the night upon the bed of palmetto leaves beneath the tree against which he had leaned when he wondered how he could be so cheerful under the shadow of the sad fate which was before him.