Sally turned. "Well, I never!" she ejaculated, with flashing eyes; her lips tightened to a thin, straight line, and she surveyed the boarders with a slow, contemptuous stare. "Well, I never!" she repeated, her tone vibrant with withering scorn, "making all that fuss about-a apple turnover!" "An-apple-turnover?" repeated Di

ver faintly.

"Yes," cried Sally, with an indignant sob; "that old cat, Mrs. Dunn, said I wasn't to have Jim in-the kitchen-and he had to wait outside-and I broughther voice became choked and guttural. Mullins turned a sickly white, but his mouth retained a petrified grin, which in his surprise he neglected to remove. Diver picked up the lantern and led the way out; the others followed silently.

"Sally," said Cortolan, with a genial smile, "you may rely upon our discretion. I can assure you that the incident of the apple turnover is closed. In the meantime, run away back to the house; and remember we shall expect to hear the date of the wedding in good time. Good-night, Sally. One moment, James," to the agent who was vanishing into the darkness. "I hope this will be a warning to you to avoid

the appearance of evil. Bring your order book along in the morning, and you will obtain some new subscribers to the excellent periodical you represent."

"Great Cæsar!" muttered Mullins, "what gall!"

"Look here, Cortolan," burst forth Diver; "I'd like to know why you went into this thing; it seems to me you've been making game of us."

Cortolan broke into shrill laughter. "To be quite frank," he replied, "I allowed myself to be dragged into it by you and Mullins and Bridgeman; but I've really enjoyed the diversion of helping things along-and a pretty kettle of fish you'd have made of it without me!"

V

"WELL, I must say," remarked Miss Brinley, "that you've done something original at last-why, it's an experience of a lifetime!" She sat in the shadow of a huge rock and regarded Avery with frank approval, her eyes sparkling with interest.

Avery sighed contentedly. "Yes," he said, "it was interesting, amusing, even instructive, for I've proved that luxury is

not elevating to the average summer boarder; but this"-he made a vague gesture that might have meant the miles of coast line and ocean, or the sheltered seclusion of the nook where they sat-"this isperfect! I can scarcely believe it isn't an hour since I came along the beach to look for you and found you behind these rocks. The other begins to seem like a dreamthis, the reality."

Miss Brinley raised her eyebrows. "The last time we talked-and, let me see, that wasn't more than four weeks ago-you said you loathed the thought of the seaside, and that the so-called beauties of nature were a bore."

"I was quite serious in the assertion," said Avery; "but my point of view has changed, I suppose. I've had enough of average human nature for the present. I don't want to be an onlooker any longerI want to live.”

There was an unwonted intensity in his utterance that checked the laughing comment on Miss Brinley's lips; she regarded him with puzzled gravity. "But you're a trifle inconsequent," she argued; "you say this is perfect, but this sort of thing is only existing. It seems to me you were living when you became a summer landlord and had all these delightful experiences; here, we're in a kind of mental torpor."

"I've come to the conclusion that mind hasn't much to do with it," said he, a dull flush spreading over his face as she looked up and met his earnest gaze. "This would be existing, perhaps-without you."

Miss Brinley became suddenly intent upon sifting sand through her fingers. "How nice of you to imply that I add to the landscape," she returned innocently. "But do tell me some more of your experiences. Couldn't you get that clergyman to tell you what crime you had committed ?"

"No; he was very vague and avoided a specific charge. Then I began to see the humor of the situation, and consented to escape. It seemed an excellent chance to realize the sensations of a fugitive, and I actually felt slightly excited until I boarded the train, for Bridgeman assured me that the others had locked up a man in the smoke-house who was on my trail; besides, as my trunks were packed and I was going

"I mean the unfettered ones," he explained. "First, Mullins fell in love with Miss Diver; and they were always making awkward situations by getting in my way. Then Nancy had a lover, a young farmer, who came every evening; and latterly, an admirer turned up for Sally Ann; but, last and worst, Mr. Bridgeman and Mrs. Plummer began to shrink from the outdoor air in the evenings, and twice when I went into the parlor to light the lamps it was quite apparent that I was an unexpected intruder. Finally, my nerves became such a wreck that I gave up lamp-lighting." "You poor man!"

"But the odd part of it was," he went on, his breathing hurried and his eyes aglow with unusual animation, "they were all so perfectly happy."

"How strange!" she commented smilingly. "And the others were married people, I suppose?"

"Yes, except-Miss Abingdon."

'She was the nice one you spoke of," Miss Brinley said, a perceptible shade of constraint in her tone; "and was she-not happy?"

"Oh, I don't know," he answered hurriedly; "she was different from the others, you know-quite different. I liked her because she she reminded me of you."

"Indeed?" The utterance was precise, courteous, yet distinctly chilling.

Avery drew a long breath; the color ebbed from his cheeks, the kindling hope changed to anxious distrust. "I-I have something more—to tell you," he faltered.

Miss Brinley looked at her watch. "How late it is!" she exclaimed. "I must go back, or father will be coming to look for me." She picked up her work-bag and rose.

Avery stood up, pale and breathless. "Wait," he implored, "till I-tell you."

Her eyes were scanning the beach in the direction of the distant hotel; there was a sudden, impatient flash in them as she turned. "Well?" she demanded.

Avery's face became lined and drawn. "I've got to tell you," he burst forth miserably; "but-but I don't know how! I can't think " He broke off. "Good Lord!" he groaned, "I didn't know it was like this!"

Miss Brinley's resolute mouth relaxed to a half smile; her hand was shading her eyes as she gazed fixedly along the beach, but she glanced swiftly at him. "There's father coming down the steps," she said. "We'll walk on, and you can tell"No," he gasped, stretching out his hand appealingly. "I'll-I'll tell youI'm in love!"

now

sat down on the sand and leaned against a rock, averting her face.

"Won't you say-something?" pleaded Avery desperately.

"Last month," she murmured, "you -pitied Professor Milray, and now you— act like other men."

Doubt, fearful doubt, and fierce hope warred together in Avery's bosom, as he bent over her. "I-I can't help it," he pleaded; "but couldn't you-love me?"

"You said you didn't see how-an intellectual man-could stand such-" her shoulders quivered with a slight shudder— "such an excess of domesticity."

Avery groaned. "I do now!" he gasped.

"You said you-didn't know how-to fall in love!"

"I didn't-I don't."

"You said you-hadn't any inclination toward marriage."

"And now," cried Avery hoarsely, "I couldn't live if-if-" He sat down beside her, his gaze fixed upon a slender hand that lay on the folds of her dress, hesitated, ventured to touch it; there was no movement of withdrawal, but she turned her head, the dimples deepened, and at that moment he caught a flickering light in her eyes that answered him.