Aunt Martha looked her disapproval . If I were really ill Aunt would spend her last cent in my behalf , but she would be just as well pleased to see me properly pale and subdued at all times , and not looking as if I were too well contented in this vale of tears . July Seventeenth . I have `` talked '' a good deal with Mr. Shelmardine these past four days . He is to be at the beach for some weeks longer . This morning he signalled across from the rocks : `` I mean to see you at last . Tomorrow I will walk over and pass you . '' `` You must not . Aunt will suspect . '' `` No danger . Do n't be alarmed . I will do nothing rash . '' I suppose he will . He seems to be very determined . Of course , I can not prevent him from promenading on our beach all day if he chooses . But then if he did , Aunt would speedily leave him in sole possession of it . I wonder what I had better wear tomorrow . July Nineteenth . Yesterday morning Aunt Martha was serene and unsuspicious . It is dreadful of me to be deceiving her and I do feel guilty .
I sat down on the sand and pretended XXXXX read the `` Memoirs of a Missionary '' -- Aunt likes cheerful books like that -- in an agony of anticipation .
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