"See that gull," he said, "how it drops plumb into the sea, as if bound to go through to China!"
"Mrs. Hawthorne calls skylarks 'little raptures,'" replied Katy.
"Sea-gulls seem to me like grown-up raptures."
"Are you going?" said Lieutenant Worthington in a tone of surprise, as she rose.
"Did n't you say that Polly wanted us to come in?"
"Why, yes; but it seems too good to leave, does n't it? Oh, by the way, Miss Carr, I came across a man to-day and ordered your greens. They will be sent on Christmas Eve. Is that right?"
"Quite right, and we are ever so much obliged to you." She turned for a last look at the sea, and, unseen by Ned Worthington, formed her lips into a "good-night." Katy had made great friends with the Mediterranean.
The promised "greens" appeared on the afternoon before Christmas Day, in the shape of an enormous fagot of laurel and laures-
