"What will our friends think of you?" demanded Mrs. Conroth. "I am horrified to have them know you ever remained overnight in such a place. There are the Perritons. They were on the train with me coming down from Boston. They are opening their house here at what they call The Beaches--one of the most exclusive colonies on the coast, I understand. They insisted upon my coming there at once, and I have promised to bring you with me." "You have promised more than you can perform. Aunt Euphemia," Louise replied shortly. "I will remain here." "Louise!" "I will remain here with Cap'n Amazon. And with Uncle Abram when he returns. They are both dear old men----" "That awful looking pirate!" gasped Mrs. Conroth. "You do not know him," returned the girl. "You do not know how worthy and now kind he is." "You have only known him a week yourself," remarked Aunt Euphemia. "What can a young girl like you know about these awful creatures--fishermen, sailors, and the like? How can you judge?" Louise laughed. "Why, Auntie, you know I have seen much of the world and many more people than you have. And if I have not learned to judge those I meet by this time I shall never learn, though I grow to be as old as"--she came near saying "as you are," but substituted instead--"as Mrs. Methuselah. I shall remain here. I would not insult Cap'n Amazon or Cap'n Abe, by leaving abruptly and going with you to the Perritons' bungalow." "But what shall I say to them?" wailed Aunt Euphemia. "What have you already said?" "I said I expected you were waiting for me at Cardhaven. I would not come over from Paulmouth in their car, but hurried on ahead. I wished to save you the disgrace--yes, _disgrace_!--of being found here in this--this country store. Ugh!" She shuddered again. "I am determined that they shall not know your poor, dear father unfortunately married beneath him." "Aunt Euphemia!" exclaimed Louise, her gray eyes flashing now. "Don't say that. It offends me. Daddy-prof never considered my mother or her people beneath his own station." "Your father, Louise, is a fool!" was the lady's tart reply. "As he is your brother as well as my father," Louise told her coldly, "I presume you feel you have a right to call him what you please. But I assure you, Aunt Euphemia, it does not please me to hear you do so." "You are a very obstinate girl!" "That attribute of my character I fancy I inherit from daddy-professor's side of the family," the girl returned bluntly. "I shall be shamed to death! I must accept the Perritons' invitation. I already have accepted it. They will think you a very queer girl, to say the least." "I am," her niece told her, the gray eyes smiling again, for Louise was soon over her wrath. "Even daddy-prof says that." "Because of his taking you all over the world with him as he did. I only wonder he did not insist upon your going on this present horrid cruise.