Then he straightened up and smiled at Mrs.Cardross, who was gently shaking her head, saying: "The young people are at the bathing-beach; I wish you'd take a chair and go down there--to please me, Mr.Hamil." "Come, Hamil," added Cardross airily, "take a few days off--on yourself.
You've one thing yet to learn: it's only the unsuccessful who are too busy to play." "But what I'm doing is play," remonstrated the young man good-humouredly.

"Well--I'll go to the beach, then." He looked at the steam-jets above the forest, fumbled with his note-book, caught the eye of Mrs.Cardross, put away the book, and took his leave laughingly.
"We go duck-shooting to-morrow," called out Cardross after him.
Hamil halted in the doorway to protest, but the elder man waved him away; and he went to his room to change riding-clothes for flannels and sponge the reek of horse and leather from his person.
* * * * * The beach was all ablaze with the brilliant colours of sunshades, hats, and bathing-skirts.

Hamil lost no time in getting into his swimming-suit; and, as he emerged, tall, cleanly built, his compact figure deeply tanned where exposed, Portlaw, waddling briskly toward the ocean, greeted him with the traditional: "Come on! it's fine!" and informed him furthermore that "everybody" was there..