She dressed in a daze of happiness, in the knowledge that presently she was to see him again. How would they meet? Where? What would the odious Darlington woman say when she knew that "the surly little thing" had captured her captain?
She took great pains with her toilet, stared at herself long in the glass. She wished she were beautiful, like Mrs. Darlington, or Max. He deserved the most radiant creature in the world! How could he care for a plain mite like herself? _Did_ he?
In a sudden collapse into deep depression she sought Miss Watts and hurried her downstairs. No signs of him in the breakfast room. Later she led Miss Watts up and down every veranda, but a complete survey of the grounds brought no results.
"We ought not to exercise so violently right after breakfast, Isabelle. Let us sit down in the shade for a little."
Isabelle agreed; it did not matter to her what they did just now, and these seats gave a view of every one who came out of the hotel.
"What shall we do to-day?" inquired Miss Watts.
Some people were coming out now. A tall woman, a girl, and a boy. The girl stared at Isabelle and then advanced.
"Why, Agnes Pollock!" exclaimed Isabelle.
Introductions and explanations followed. The girls had known each other at Hill Top School. Agnes was convalescing from an appendicitis operation. She was with her mother and her brother, who greeted Isabelle cordially.
"Heard a lot about you!" said Percy Pollock, who was a beautiful blond person, slightly older than the girls. "You were the terror at Hill Top, weren't you?"
"I didn't have much chance. I was only there one year," laughed Isabelle.
"I hope you'll wake up this dull isle," said he.
"Dull?" cried Isabelle, blushing furiously at her tone.
They all sat down together, in the aimless way of holiday makers, but Isabelle's eyes were ever on the door. Where was the man? Did he lie abed all morning? And such a morning!
"Isabelle, let's go for a walk down the beach. I've such heaps to tell you about Hill Top."
"Not you. Just Isabelle and me. We want to talk."
"I--think I won't this morning. I--I'd rather not," began Isabelle.
Then she stopped short. He, the Son of the Morning, was coming forth. She scarcely noticed that Mrs. Darlington was with him. Her face was suddenly so radiant that the others turned to look. He saw them. Now he would come to her--show them how it was between them!