"Don't you think it is a nice way to live?" he asked. "The sea is really wonderful. I have learned more about sea and shore already than you can find in all the books. Do you know where the gulls nest, and how they hatch their young? Did you ever watch a starfish feeding? Do you know what part of the shellfish is the scallop of commerce? Do you know that every seventh wave is almost sure to be larger than its fellows? Do you----" "Oh, it may be very delightful," Louise interrupted this flow of badly catalogued information to say. He expressed exactly her own desires. Nothing could be pleasanter than spending the time, day after day, learning things "at first hand" about nature. For her father--and of course for her--to do this was quite proper, Louise thought. But not for this young fisherman, who should be making his way in the world. "Where is it getting you?" she demanded. "Getting me?" "Yes," she declared with vigor, yet coloring a little. "A man should work." "But I'm not idle." "He should work to get ahead--to save--to make something of himself--to establish himself in life--to have a home." He smiled then and likewise colored. "I--I------A man can't do that alone. Especially the home-making part." "You don't suppose any of these girls about here--the nice girls, I mean--want a man who is not a home provider?" He laughed outright then. "Some of them get that kind, I fear, Miss Grayling. Mandy Card, for instance." "Are you planning to be another Milt Baker?" she responded with scorn. "Oh, now, you're hard on a fellow," he complained. "I'm always busy. And, fixed as I am, I don't see why I should grub and moil at unpleasant things." Louise shrugged her shoulders and made a gesture of finality. "You are impossible, I fear," she said and put aside--not without a secret pang--her interest in Lawford Tapp, an interest which had been developing since she first met the young man. He allowed the subject to lapse and began telling her about the ledges on which the rock cod and tautog schooled; where bluefish might be caught on the line, and snappers in the channels going into the Haven. "Good sport. I must take you out in the _Merry Andrew_," he said. "She's a peach of a sailer--and my very own." "Oh! do you own the sloop, Mr. Tapp?" "I guess I do! And no money could buy her," he cried with boyish enthusiasm. "She's the best lap-streak boat anywhere along the Cape. And _sail_!" "I love sailing," she confessed, with brightening visage. "Say! You just set the day--so it won't conflict with your work--and I'll take you out," he declared eagerly, "But won't it conflict with your duties?" "Humph!" he returned. "I thought your idea was that I didn't have any duties. However," and he smiled again, "you need not worry about that. When you want to go I will arrange everything so that I'll have a free day." "But not alone, Mr. Tapp?"