So this summer had come around as many others had before, and already a new element had entered into their midst, and that naughty little Nathalie was at the root of the matter; for ever since one bright day in May, when the _Sylph_ had come sailing along these pleasant waters and Wendell Churchill had called at the manor to pay his respects, the old order of things had been changed. Until that day the _Sylph_ had been better known to Hetherford than her good-looking owner; for rarely had he cast anchor in the harbor without having aboard his yacht a party of gay and fashionable people, who urgently claimed his whole attention. But now he no longer brought strangers to Hetherford, and when, as now and then occurred, he was obliged to absent himself for a few days, the _Sylph_ lay at the disposal of the girls. And all this that little minx Nathalie had brought about, laughing while she disclaimed emphatically any disloyalty to the vows of their bond. The worst of it was the mischief was spreading, and Eleanor's eyes falling just then upon Jean, she experienced a sense of keen annoyance, for warm-hearted Jean had been the most whole-souled, the most valiant of them all. It was a great pity that the _Vortex_ had been stationed here, and doubly a pity that there was no immediate prospect of her departure. It would not do to be introducing all sorts of folly into their circle. Eleanor had quite worked herself up to a pitch of righteous indignation when, on surveying the ground that had brought her to this point, she became uncomfortably conscious of some slight changes within herself; for here before her, looking into her eyes and saying all sorts of pretty things, which of course were nonsensical, was the "fatal beauty" whom she had always looked upon as a boy. Half-vexed, half-amused she rose to go, and when Cliff, after helping her with her coat, gently pressed her hand, she felt immensely like boxing his ears. It was idiotic and sentimental, his looking at her in that way, and there was no occasion whatever for his saying good-night like a lover in a play. There was quite a little excitement and bustle of departure in the hall-way, as coats and cloaks were sought for, found, and donned. Jean stood by the large open fireplace, where a log lay smoldering, its red ashes still giving out a grateful heat, and at her side was Farr, hat in hand, a light summer overcoat on his arm. He spoke a few words to her as he took her hand in parting, and she looked up at him smiling and defiant. The girl's blue eyes were dark with unwonted excitement, her cheeks flushed with bright color, and Eleanor noted all this and found her impressions of the evening deepened. When the last guest had gone, Helen dropped down on the foot of the stairs. "Oh, how tired I am," she exclaimed. "Do put out the lamps in the drawing-room, Nat, like a good girl." Then she rose to her feet with a little sigh of weariness. "I think I am sleepy too," she said.