"And I tell you I'm very doubtful. A mere child, a country girl, ignorant of the world, ignorant, perhaps, of what marriage means! It's a hard position for me, and it may be worse--it may be horrible--for her." "Ask her," repeated Danton. "Look there!" He levelled his walking-stick. "Do you see the dunes there--the second hill? Somewhere beyond that you'll find Madge and Betty." Without another word, Fessenden pulled his cap over his eyes and strode off. He skirted the first hillock, and on its farther side came abruptly upon Madge Danton. She gave him a warm hand. Her eyes had lost their defiant look; rather, it seemed to him, they included the world in their gentle glance. "You'll find her beyond the next hill," she said. "You've talked to her--as Danton talked to me?" "Yes. She understands--her position. I know I don't need to warn you to be--careful." "No, no." He did not find Betty beyond the next hill, nor the next. But, hastening down the hollow ways, he almost stumbled over her at last--on a sunny slope above the sea. She looked up at him, her eyes as clear as crystal. "Hello, Boatswain Bob!" The greeting steadied him immeasurably. He knew that not so much what he should say in the next few minutes, as how he should say it, might determine the course of their lives. He longed with all his strength to be given a divine tact and a divine gift of speech. He threw himself on the sand at a respectful distance. "Hello, Nancy Lee!" Thanks to Kitty Hawk's "Bazaar," a scarlet ribbon again shone at Betty's throat. Her hair was as he had last seen it--coiled superbly about her head. Again he felt the air of dignity and aloofness of which the coiled hair seemed the symbol. Fessenden's eyes, quiet and tender, met her own, his glance as clear as hers. "Betty," he said, very simply, "we've been through a lot together, and I want you to marry me. Will you? Don't think I'm asking you because of any chivalrous fancy. I want you because I love you, and for nothing else in the world." His own words fired him. "Dearest, I've loved you since the first minute I saw you. You know that--in the bottom of your heart, you know that's true." Her eyes, which at first had met his unwaveringly, quailed a little. The red crept slowly into her cheeks. [Illustration: ALL THE CHIVALRY IN FESSENDEN'S NATURE STIRRED AT HER WORDS] "I'm only a--a country girl," she said. "And you're the famous Mr. Thomas Fessenden. I didn't know your real name until Madge told me, you know." "Will you marry me, Betty?" She eyed him soberly. "Madge said I _must_ say yes, if you asked me." "You poor child! Don't mind what she says. I want you to love me, if you can." "I like you thoroughly, Bob White." "Is that all?" "That's all--I'm sorry," she answered gravely. "To marry a man, and not to love him, would be--horrible."