One of Jack’s favorite positions, when Helen was near, was at her feet. He had learned this one the summer before at her house on Crab Island, when they would sit for hours on the beach. “I’m not in anybody’s way, my dear Mrs. Leroy. My feet are tied in a Chinese knot under me, and my back has grown fast to the rain-spout. Major, will you please say something nice to Mrs. Leroy and coax her inside?” Sam had rolled a small table, holding a flagon of cognac and some crushed ice, beside the major, who sat half buried in the cushions of one of Sanford’s divans. The Pocomokian struggled to his feet. “You mustn’t move, major,” Mrs. Leroy called. “I’m not coming in. I’m going to stay out here in this lovely moonlight, if one of these very polite young gentlemen will bring me an armchair.” With a look of pretended dignity at Jack and Sanford. “Take _my_ seat,” said Jack, with a laugh, springing to his feet, suddenly realizing Mrs. Leroy’s delicate but pointed rebuke. “Come, Miss Helen,” a better and more retired corner having at this moment suggested itself to him, “we won’t stay where we are abused. Let us join the major.” And with an arm to Miss Shirley and a sweeping bow to Mrs. Leroy, Jack walked straight to the divan nearest the curtains. When Helen and Jack were out of hearing, Mrs. Leroy looked toward the major, and, reassured of his entire absorption in his own personal comfort, turned to Sanford, and said in low, earnest tones, in which there was not a trace of the gayety of a moment before, “Can the new sloop lay the stones, Henry? You haven’t told me a word yet of what you have been doing for the last few days at the Ledge.” “I think so, Kate,” replied Sanford in an equally serious voice. “We laid one yesterday before the easterly gale caught us. You got my telegram, didn’t you?” “Of course! but I was anxious for all that. Ever since I had that talk with General Barton I’ve felt nervous over the laying of those stones. He frightened me when he said no one of the Board at Washington believed you could do it. It would be so awful if your plan should fail.” “But it’s not going to fail, Kate. I can do it, and will.” There was a decided tone in his voice, and his eyebrows were knitted in the way she loved: she read his determination in every word and look. “All I wanted was a proper boat, and I’ve got that. I watched her day before yesterday. I was a little nervous until I saw her lower the first stone. Her captain is a plucky fellow,—Captain Joe likes him immensely. I wish you could have been there to see how cool he was,—not a bit flustered when he saw the rocks under the bow of his sloop.” Kate handed him her empty coffee-cup, and going to the edge of the balcony rested her elbows on the railing, a favorite gesture of hers, and looked down on the treetops of the square.