"Hullo, Farr," called Dick cheerfully, and thus addressed, Lieutenant Farr left the wheel and moved leisurely forward. "You will have to individualize for yourself, old fellow, for it would be impossible for me to name all these charming people." "Time enough," spoke Farr, in a well-modulated voice, as he raised his cap and glanced at the group before him. "Come, let us get off," he said, turning abruptly to the men, and soon the _Cyclone_ was sailing lazily away before a light breeze. "How delightful!" sighed Eleanor Hill, as she settled herself comfortably to windward. "This is my idea of bliss." Farr paused an instant on his way aft and glanced interestedly at the girl's earnest face, then proceeded to his place at the wheel. "For pity's sake, let somebody go and talk to that man," said Jean, dropping her voice. "I fancy he doesn't care much about it," replied Eleanor quietly. "You go, Em," Mollie suggested. "Certainly!" and, nothing daunted, Emily started up. "Who doubted her willingness?" laughed Nan saucily. Eleanor shook her head at the speaker. Dick threw himself down in the midst of the group of girls and kept up an incessant chatter. One voice was lacking in the general interchange of nonsense, for to-day Jean Lawrence, who was usually the merriest of them all, found her interest flagging strangely. Sitting somewhat apart from the others, her eyes wandered persistently to where Farr was courteously and patiently initiating Emily Varian into the art of steering. There was something about the man that caught her attention and held it almost against her will. She noted with what an air of distinction his rough yachting flannels were worn, and how beautifully shaped were the long slender hands which moved so lazily, yet with such a suggestion of strength. His cap was drawn down over his face, so that only the lines of a well-molded mouth and chin were revealed, and Jean found herself waiting with almost childish interest for a glimpse of the eyes so tantalizingly hid from view. A sudden shout of boisterous laughter from Dick brought her sharply to herself, and with a keen sense of shame, and a passionate hope that her defection might have passed unnoticed, she turned and plunged into the conversation. "Let us have some songs, girls," suggested Eleanor. "We are getting very much demoralized, and I don't know what that strange man will think of us." "Oh, if I were a little bird how happy I would be," began Jean, with more energy than correctness. "Hold on, Jeanie," interrupted Nathalie, catching up her mandolin, "the other words have lots more flavor." "Oh, the first that came a-courting was little Tommy Green, The finest young man that ever was seen, But the words of my grandmother ran in my head, And I would not listen to a word that he said." "There, that will do, Nathalie," interposed Helen with decision. "Not at all," cried Jean.