"I especially dislike your accusation, Miss Lawrence." "Then I must be more careful not to run counter to your prejudices hereafter." "If you would be so good," he said to her dryly; then their eyes met, and they both laughed light-heartedly. "I hope you enjoyed the sail the other day. I meant to ask you about it yesterday afternoon." "Thoroughly. Your songs were particularly delightful." Jean blushed, and answered in some confusion: "They were very foolish. I really hope you will forgive our absurd behavior." "Charming folly needs no apology," Jean found the glance he gave her a trifle disconcerting. "But pray, Mr. Farr, do not----" she began, and hesitated. "Do not what?" he interrogated, with a faint show of eagerness. "Do not allow your soup to grow cold," she finished, with a merry glance at him from under her long lashes. "While you are in Hetherford," spoke Nathalie across the table to Dudley, "you should make a point of going up to the cemetery. There are some epitaphs there a hundred years old, and they are so funny." "So Andrews was telling us. Speaking of epitaphs I was very much amused by one I saw in a magazine the other day. Let me see. How was it? "Here lies the body of Mary Ann, With her head on the bosom of Abraham; Pretty soft thing for Mary Ann, But very hard lines on Abraham." "Here is a good one," cried Dick, when he had partially recovered from his ebullition of mirth: "Here lies the body of Mary Bin, Who having had her little fling, Burst this outer shell of sin, And hatched herself a cherubim." Helen shook her head at Dick in gentle protest. "What will Captain and Mrs. Dodd think of us." she said. "Suppose I should recall one to you all," suggested the captain, with a merry twinkle in his eye. "Please do," they cried in chorus. "He heard the angels calling him, From that celestial shore, He flapped his wings and away he went, To make one angel more." "Splendid," exclaimed Nathalie, with enthusiasm. "Mr. Dudley and Dick are quite in the background." "Dick saw his in that charming novel 'Comin' thro' the Rye.'" "Guess I did, Nancy. By Jove, girls," he whispered mischievously, "you are all stunning to-night," and he drew himself up with an air of pride and satisfaction. "You shine in a kind of reflected glory; don't you, Dick?" laughed Nathalie. After dinner they gathered about the great wood fire burning cheerily in the drawing-room. The evening had grown suddenly chill. The wind had veered to the southeast, and the strong sea breeze lowered the temperature by many degrees; a not uncommon occurrence in our American summers.