It was quite a pretty scene, this bright June morning, down on the little stretch of sands which Hetherford dignified by the name of "The Beach." Little children were digging in the sand and filling their pails, and some of the small boys were running up and down, now in the water, and now out. The girls were in a group in front of the bathing houses, all chattering at once, and discussing the momentous question as to whether to make the plunge or not. In a brief time Jean and Nathalie were swimming far out, and Mollie came creeping timidly to the water's edge. "Oh! how I dread it," she laughed. "Nonsense, Moll; go ahead. It will do you good." Mollie walked off, and Helen and Eleanor, who had found a sheltered nook, watched the bathers for a while in silence. By and by Helen's gaze strayed from the bathers to the stretch of blue water beyond, and a slightly troubled look crept into her eyes. A sudden, deep sigh recalled Eleanor's thoughts to her companion. "Why, Helen, what world of melancholy does that sigh proclaim?" "Oh, I don't know," evasively. "I am low-spirited this morning, somehow or other." "Can't you tell me the reason, dear?" Helen did not answer, and for a moment Eleanor watched her closely. Something in the delicate face and in the eyes, in which, of late, a shadow always lurked, touched her. "I would love your confidence, Helen," she said at last; "but unless you can give it to me freely, I would not wish to ask it of you." Helen stirred uneasily. "Ah, well, for a moment I thought to speak to you of something troublesome, but be glad, dear, that I have changed my mind. I am going to speak of something pleasant instead. Do you remember my friend Miss Stuart? She has visited me several times, but always in the winter." "Oh, yes! I remember Jean's writing me about her." Helen turned a questioning glance on Eleanor, but the girl's expression was perfectly non-committal. "Yes? Well, she is coming here to visit me later. The time is not set as yet, but I hope it will be early next month." "Indeed. How nice. But, Helen, I thought she was very gay and devoted to society. What will she do in this colony of girls, with scarcely a man to say a pretty thing to her?" "I don't know," replied Helen, a shade of annoyance crossing her face. "I think, perhaps, the girls may be mistaken about her. I feel quite sure she will be happy here." Just then Nan Birdsall came rushing down over the sands, warm but radiant. "Going in, Nan?" called Eleanor in greeting. "No, indeed," breathlessly. "I hate the water more than a cat does," and Nan dropped down on the sand at Eleanor's side, and, taking off her hat, fanned her flushed face. "Where is Em this morning?" queried Helen. "What a superfluous question," laughed Nan. "Don't you see that the _Sylph_ is in the harbor? Of course, Em has Mr. Churchill in tow." "How will Nathalie like that?" asked Eleanor with an amused smile.