You know how cool it gets toward evening.

Here, take my cloak.

Perhaps I'd better go with you--" "No, do you keep on home.

I want to see if the little wretch will be contented with me alone.

Good-by," and without giving her sister time to protest, she called to Meg, and with a wave of her hand, the red cloak flying from her shoulders, ran toward the beach, Meg bounding after her.
Jane waved back in answer, and kept her eyes on the graceful figure skipping along the road, her head and shoulders in silhouette against the blue sea, her white skirts brushing the yellow grass of the sand-dune.