"Very much indeed." "That's nice. Since relatives are not of our choosing, it is pleasant to find they are not bores." Again the young man smiled. "And this old gentleman for whom she keeps house--what of him?" It was plain Madam Lee had all the facts well in mind. As best he could Bob sketched Willie in a few swift strokes. "Humph! An interesting old fellow. I should like to see him," declared Madam Lee when the narrative was done. "And so you are working on this motor-boat with him?" "Yes." "How long have you been here?" "Ten days." "And when do you go back to your family?" "I don't quite know," hesitated the big fellow. "There is still a great deal to do on this invention we are working at." His companion eyed him shrewdly. "And the girl--where does she live?" she asked, reaching for Bob's cup. He colored with surprise. "The girl?" he repeated, disconcerted. "Of course there is a girl," went on the woman. "What makes you think so?" "Oh, Bob, Bob! Isn't there always a girl on every young man's horizon?" "I suppose so--generally speaking," he confessed with a laugh. "Suppose we abandon the abstract term and come down to this girl in particular," his interrogator said. "Why are you so sure there is one?" he hedged teasingly. "My dear boy, how absurd of you!" returned the sharp-eyed old lady with a twinkle of merriment. "In the first place, all the motor-boats in the world couldn't keep a young man like you chained up indefinitely in a sleepy little Cape Cod village. Besides, Cynthia told me." "Cynthia? She doesn't know anything about it." "That is precisely how I knew," piped Madam Lee triumphantly. "What did she tell you?" "She did not tell me anything," was the reply. "She simply came back from Wilton in a wretched humor and when I inquired of her whether she had her buckle back again, she answered with such spirit that there was no mistaking its cause. Of course she had the wit to know you were not wearing a belt of that pattern; nor your aunt nor Mr. Spence, either." "The belt and buckle belong to a girl--" "A girl! You surprise me," she murmured derisively. Robert Morton waited a moment, then, without heeding her mischievous comment, added gravely: "A friend of Mr. Spence's." "I see." The old lady smoothed the satin folds of her gown thoughtfully before she spoke, then continued with extreme gentleness: "Tell me all about her." "I couldn't do that," declared Robert Morton. "There aren't words enough to give you any idea how lovely she is or how good." Nevertheless, because he had so eager and sympathetic a listener, he at length began shyly to unfold the story of Delight Hathaway's strange life. He told it reverently and with a lover's tenderness, touching on the girl's tragic advent into the hamlet of Wilton, on her beauty, and on her poverty. "What a romance!" exclaimed Madam Lee meditatively, when the tale was done. "And they know nothing of the child's previous history?"