John Milton's frank eyes made no secret of his mortification. “I ought not to have disturbed you, I know,” he said quickly, “I had no right. But I was on the other shore opposite and I saw you come down here--that is”--he blushed prodigiously--“I thought it MIGHT BE you--and I ventured--I mean--won't you let me row you ashore?” There seemed to be no reasonable excuse for refusing. She slipped quickly into the boat without waiting for his helping hand, avoiding that contact which only a moment ago she was trying to recall. A few strokes brought them ashore. He continued his explanation with the hopeless frankness and persistency of youth and inexperience. “I only came here the day before yesterday. I would not have come, but Mr. Fletcher, who has a cottage on the other shore, sent for me to offer me my old place on the 'Clarion.' I had no idea of intruding upon your privacy by calling here without permission.” Mrs. Ashwood had resumed her conventional courtesy without however losing her feminine desire to make her companion pay for the agitation he had caused her. “We would have been always pleased to see you,” she said vaguely, “and I hope, as you are here now, you will come with me to the hotel. My brother”-- But he still retained his hold of the boat-rope without moving, and continued, “I saw you yesterday, through the telescope, sitting in your balcony; and later at night I think it was your shadow I saw near the blue shaded lamp in the sitting-room by the window,--I don't mean the RED LAMP that you have in your own room. I watched you until you put out the blue lamp and lit the red one. I tell you this--because--because--I thought you might be reading a manuscript I sent you. At least,” he smiled faintly, “I LIKED to think it so.” In her present mood this struck her only as persistent and somewhat egotistical. But she felt herself now on ground where she could deal firmly with him. “Oh, yes,” she said gravely. “I got it and thank you very much for it. I intended to write to you.” “Don't,” he said, looking at her fixedly. “I can see you don't like it.” “On the contrary,” she said promptly, “I think it beautifully written, and very ingenious in plot and situation. Of course it isn't the story I told you--I didn't expect that, for I'm not a genius. The man is not at all like my cousin, you know, and the woman--well really, to tell the truth, SHE is simply inconceivable!” “You think so?” he said gravely. He had been gazing abstractedly at some shining brown seaweed in the water, and when he raised his eyes to hers they seemed to have caught its color. “Think so? I'm positive! There's no such a woman; she isn't HUMAN. But let us walk to the hotel.” “Thank you, but I must go back now.” “But at least let my brother thank you for taking his place--in rescuing me. It was so thoughtful in you to put off at once when you saw I was surrounded. I might have been in great danger.”