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“You very seldom do, my love,” her grandfather chided her gently. “Now what have you said this time?”

Fran glanced at Katie again before answering. “I can’t really say without Katie agreeing,” she said. “It’s rather personal.”

“Then you should not use personal matters to gain your own ends,” Sir Janus told her severely. “If I have interpreted what I heard correctly, that is what Katie is objecting to, and quite rightly too.”

“I know,” Fran admitted, and sought to catch her friend’s eye. “I’m sorry, Katie.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Katie smiled at the contrite expression, so reminiscent of Jamie. “I was making a fuss, I suppose; I think I’ve got a touch of the sun, perhaps.”

“You could have.” Sir Janus looked at her anxiously, a hand on her hot forehead. “You do seem a little flushed; you should cover your head.”

Katie smiled at the words. “So I’ve been told,” she said. “I don’t like my head covered, though, I never have.”

“It’s a very pretty head. I don’t blame you.” The old man held her at arm’s length, his handsome white head held well back as he looked at her intently. “You know, Fran,” he said solemnly, “if one of my grandsons doesn’t marry Katie I shall do so myself to keep her in the family.” He raised one of her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers briefly, smiling at her flushed face. “But I think I shall trust to the good sense of the younger generation.”

“I’m very glad to hear that.” It was Jamie’s voice behind her and she turned to see him smiling blithely as always, unlike the serious manner of his brother. “What is it that we’re trusted to have the good sense to do?” he asked, putting an arm round Katie’s shoulders.

“Marry Katie,” Sir Janus told him promptly. “She’d be such a wonderful acquisition to the family!”

“Marry? Oh,” Jamie stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I should have to give that some thought,” he said, “I’ve never thought of going
that
far.”

“Then it’s time you did!” his grandfather retorted, smiling at his discomfiture.

“But why me?” Jamie looked comically pathetic. “What about big brother? He’s still managing to stay single and he’s thirty-five, or almost. Not,” he added a mite maliciously, “that he has a lot longer, I should say.”

The old man’s shrewd eyes looked at his grandson knowingly. “As you say, Jamie,” he said quietly, “but I wouldn’t be too sure of the outcome if I were you.” He crossed the room to the door into the hall, followed by a hopeful Golly, and turning to close the door behind him, smiled at Katie.

“Well,” said Jamie, after his grandfather had gone, “what was all that about?” He looked from his cousin to Katie hopefully. “Is there something afoot about which I know nothing?” he asked, but neither of the girls answered him. “Oh, well!” he shrugged resignedly and sat beside Fran on the settee. “Now if you sit the other side of me,” he said to Katie, patting the seat invitingly, “it will be my idea of a perfect day, two girls all to myself!”

“I was thinking of going home,” said Katie, resisting the invitation.

“But it’s only a quarter to eleven,” Jamie protested. “I was thinking of taking both of you to St. Miram.” He failed to notice the look that passed between Fran and Katie.

“For a swim?” Fran ventured. “It would be lovely and cool.” She looked at Katie, still standing in front of them. “Will you come, Katie?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Katie answered, hesitantly.

“Oh, come on!” Jamie encouraged, his eyes fixed on her in a gaze reminiscent of his brother. It was amazing, Katie thought, how much they all had in common when you got to know them. “You’ve never been along that side of the coast yet, have you?” he asked.

“Yes, she has,” Fran interposed before Katie could answer.

"Have you?” he asked Katie curiously.

“Yes,” she nodded briefly, “I have with John.” It was as well to be honest about it, she decided, it would save a lot of questions later.

“John?” He looked sceptical, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yes, John,” Katie echoed, “what’s so surprising about it?”

“Whatever possessed big brother?” he asked. “When was this?”

“A couple of hours ago,” Katie said impatiently, “if it really matters.”

“Well, well, well!” Jamie laughed shortly. “It’s a good thing the fair Eleanor didn’t see you together or the fur would have flown! ”

Fran glanced apprehensively at Katie before answering. “She did,” she said shortly, shaking her head at her cousin. “Now shut up about it, Jamie, and take me swimming if you’re going to.”

“Oh, I must know,” chuckled the irrepressible Jamie, oblivious of his cousin’s black looks. “What happened? Did she spit fire or was she all ice-cold and regal?”

Katie turned stormy eyes on him. “If we’re going swimming,” she said coldly, “I shall have to fetch my costume first.”

For a brief moment Jamie glanced from one to the other, from the anxious face of Fran to the determinedly blank one of Katie, then with a shrug he got up from the settee and stood by Katie. “I’ll run you round to fetch your things,” he told her, “while Fran rounds up mine and her own.”

“All right,” Katie agreed. “Thank you, if that’s O.K. with Fran.”

Her friend nodded, stretching luxuriously as she uncurled from the settee.

“It will be lovely and cool on the water,” she said, adding, “I presume we’re going in
Sea Mist?"

“Of course,” Jamie nodded. “We can’t all get into my car, and it’s too hot in the Humber this weather.” He took Katie’s hand and pulled her across the room after him. “Come on, sweet Kate, let’s go round to Smuggler’s Rest for your things.”

Jamie handled the launch with a certain reckless confidence, but kept the speed down to below that at which his brother had driven, a fact that surprised Katie, and once past the curve of the cliffs he kept closer inshore. Passing the quiet, rippled dunes of the beach fronting the Barlow house and its neighbours, Fran glanced at Katie, but said nothing, and Jamie, intent on keeping the speeding launch on course, kept his eyes ahead and made no comment.

St. Miram itself, a little further along the coast than she had been with John, was a holiday resort, less visited than Sea Bar and catering for those in search of a quieter holiday. The beaches were more of a series of sandy coves, safe for bathing even at high tide, and well frequented though not crowded as at Sea Bar.

Private boats were obviously expected to use the shore, for mooring was provided at several landing stages and Jamie was seemingly well known, for several men along the sea-front waved hands in greeting as he secured the launch and helped the girls ashore.

“Nice?” asked Fran as Katie looked around her.

“It looks very nice,” Katie agreed, “and there can’t be any danger of falling cliffs, can there?”

Fran pouted reproachfully. “It’s perfectly safe,” she said, following Jamie along the sandy beach, “and nice and quiet, too. There’s a lovely little cove that we found just round here where almost no one comes. There are a few rocks,” she added, “but they’re solid enough and in no danger of falling.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Katie said feelingly as they approached a seeming dead end against a wall of grey rock. “Now what?”

“Over the top,” Jamie informed her cheerfully. “Come on, it’s only about four feet high, I’ll go first and help you.” As good as his word, he climbed easily over the barrier and reached down to hand the girls up.

The beach was bigger than Katie had expected and completely empty of people. “There you are!” Fran said triumphantly. “Secluded, and shady and sunny just as you like.”

“Shady for me,” said Katie. “I’ve been told twice today that I’ve got a touch of the sun, so I’d better stay out of it for a while.”

“You should wear something on your head,” Jamie said, and blinked his surprise at Katie’s burst of laughter. Fran, guessing the reason, smiled broadly and winked one eye at Katie.
“Now
what have I said?” Jamie asked plaintively.

“That is the third time today I’ve been told that, and in almost exactly the same words,” Katie laughed. “I really
shall
have to buy a hat!”

Fran made a shrug of regret. “I’ve noticed,” she said, “the Dennison men are fond of giving advice; always,” she added hastily, “for one’s own good, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” Katie agreed solemnly, and the two girls burst into laughter.

“I give up!” Jamie said disgustedly. “I shall go in for a swim. Are you two coming or not?”

In a few minutes all three were in the water, Jamie and Fran performing like seals with the skill of long practice, with Katie more cautiously skirting their boisterous acrobatics, by swimming leisurely out and back again, enjoying the warm buoyancy of the sea and the feeling of relaxation it gave her.

Floating idly on the water, she could just see the high cliffs of the coast further back towards Mare Green, with the sun turning them a hazy gold in the distance. It was a changeable coastline that offered almost every type of sea front she could think of. The cliffs left off a little under a mile away, just beyond where the Barlows lived, and Katie could just see the huge drop of an almost vertical cliff face that fell sheer into the sea.

It looked dangerous and a little frightening, but here in the little sandy coves it was pleasant and safe. “Ooh, lunch, I think,” said Fran, tired at last as she vigorously towelled herself dry. “I could eat a horse, I’m so hungry!”

“Shall we go back or have lunch here?” Jamie asked from behind the rock he was using as a dressing room.

“What do you say, Katie?” Fran consulted her friend. “There’s a very good restaurant here that does the most wonderful sea-food dishes.”

“It sounds marvellous,” said Katie, “and I told Aunt Cora I didn’t know whether I should be back for lunch or not, so she won’t be wondering where I am.”

“I forgot to mention it,” Fran confessed, “but we can ring from the Shell House and tell them we won’t be back.”

“That’s a bit like closing the stable door,” Jamie said, “but I suppose it’s better to ring in case Janus worries about us.”

The Shell House proved to be every bit as good as Fran had promised and Katie discovered that she was far hungrier than she had realised when she was faced with the delicious sea-food salad she had ordered. The decor was in keeping with the name, and every conceivable shape and size of seashell had been used to cover the walls and ceiling, with the windows deep set to give a feeling of being underwater.

“It’s unusual,” was Katie’s verdict, “and it must have taken infinite patience to place all those shells.”

“It’s like one of those boxes everybody’s Aunt Aggie used to make,” Jamie declared. “You know, those ones all covered with the shells she’d collected at Brighton.”

Katie laughed, but Fran pouted at the criticism. “The food’s very good,” Katie consoled her. “I’m not surprised they do so well.”

They had been quite early coming in for lunch and had therefore had little difficulty in obtaining a table, but now the place was rapidly filling up and the waitresses were scurrying to keep pace with the orders.

Across the room at a table for two, Katie suddenly caught sight of a familiar fair head, bent momentarily over a menu, but glancing every so often at the other occupant of the table. Fran, seeing Katie’s attention caught, followed her gaze and smiled wryly. “We always see someone we know at lunchtimes, don’t we?”

“Who is it this time?” Jamie asked without turning round.

“John,” Fran answered shortly.

“Really?” This time Jamie did turn his head and looked across the room at his brother. “And
not
with the fair Eleanor either.” His blue eyes gleamed wickedly. “Big brother is definitely branching out,” he commented.

“Eleanor Barlow has gone back to London,” Katie supplied, her appetite suddenly diminished. “She went this morning.”

“Aha!” Jamie turned back to his lunch. “She’d soon come back again, too, if she saw who his companion was, and the fat would really be in the fire.”

“I know the face,” Fran said, frowning in puzzlement, “but I can’t place it. I’m sure I recognise her though.”

“You do,” Jamie said, complacently. “Her name’s Anne and she’s Dr. Barlow’s housemaid.”

Fran stared at her cousin open-mouthed for a second or two, her fork poised half way to her mouth. “Of course,” she said, at last, casting another look at John and his companion. “I knew she was familiar, but I never thought of Anne.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Don’t think I’m a snob or anything,” she said, “but just what
is
John up to?”

“I haven’t the remotest idea,” Jamie answered blithely, “but I mean to find out.”

“How?” Fran asked. “After all, you can scarcely ask him, he’d simply turn round and tell you it was none of our business if he wants to take out Dr. Barlow’s maid. She’s an attractive girl,” she added generously.

“She’s not exactly a girl,” Jamie pointed out unkindly. “She must be about thirty, but I agree she
is
rather attractive.”

“Then I suggest we leave him alone,” Katie interposed rather more sharply than she intended.

Fran turned her ingenuous eyes on her. “It’s natural curiosity,” she said reasonably. “After all, John isn’t exactly known as a ladies’ man and here he is out with three different women in as many days.”

“Three?” Jamie looked at his cousin curiously, then caught sight of Katie’s flushed face as she pushed away her plate, only half empty. “Oh, yes,” he said slowly, “I’d forgotten. He took Katie out too, didn’t he?”

“It’s just that he’s not running true to form,” Fran said solemnly, spearing a prawn and conveying it to her mouth. “It’s very puzzling, but I think I agree with Katie, we should leave it alone, Jamie. After all it’s none of our business really.”

“Of course it is,” Jamie insisted. “It makes a difference to us who big brother marries.”

“Going on as he is at the moment,” Fran' retorted, “he’s not likely to
marry
anyone.”

“That’s true,” Jamie conceded, and turned an artless smile on Katie. “I’d sooner he married Katie than anyone,” he said blithely.