"The chaps here ain't none of her sort." And again Adam grunted.
He was fond of Columbine, took her out in his boat, spun yarns for her, gave her such treasures from the sea as came his way--played, in fact, a father's part, save that from the very outset he was very careful to assume no authority over her.

That responsibility was reserved for Mrs.
Peck, whose kindly personality made the bare idea seem absurd.
And so to a very great extent Columbine had run wild.

But the warm responsiveness of her made her easy to manage as a general rule, and Mrs.Peck's government was by no means exacting.
"Thank goodness, she's not one to run after the men!" was her verdict after the first six months of Columbine's sojourn.
That the men would have run after her had they received the smallest encouragement to do so was a fact that not one of them would have disputed.

But with dainty pride she kept them at a distance, and none had so far attempted to cross the invisible boundary that she had so decidedly laid down.
And then with the summer weather had come the stranger--had come Montagu Knight.

Young, handsome, and self-assured, he strolled into The Ship one day for tea, having tramped twelve miles along the coast from Spearmouth, on the other side of the Point.