“There was no one on that boat to introduce us. If I waited till the trip was over, it was almost certain you would go your way, I would go mine, and we’d never meet again. If I smiled and flirted with you openly you would become disgusted and avoid me. Something about you made me feel sure of that. I made up my mind that I’d find a way to become acquainted with you—a way that would not make me seem bold and forward. I found it. I threw my dog over, screamed, and jumped after him. I had not misjudged you, for you leaped after me almost immediately. But then, while we were in the water, I was conscience-stricken and confessed the whole trick, which was a most foolish thing to do.” Her frankness fascinated and delighted him. From the first there had been something about this girl that contrasted strongly with ordinary girls, interesting Merry not a little. “I’m glad you threw the dog over,” he declared, with a laugh. “Even though it came so near costing you your life?” “It did not. I was following your father, any way, and should have fallen into his trap just the same. Perhaps if you had not met me thus, if I had not gone to your rescue, you would not have felt enough interest in me to watch your father and Jones and be on hand to save my life. So, you see, I should be very thankful that you tossed your dog into the lake that day.” “Then,” said she seriously, “if you feel that way about it, I, too, am glad I did it.” “If you had not, it is not likely we would be sitting here this evening.” “But in one way, I fear, my meeting with you was a bad thing.” “Indeed? In what way?” “Just the same as my education may have been a bad thing. It put false ideas into my head. What am I but the daughter of Enos Dugan, the smuggler! I can never be anything else, yet I have entertained aspirations and ambitions. I can never be a lady, for who would accept me as such, knowing all about my parentage? If I had not received an education, if I had been kept at home in the backwoods, if I had never seen you, I might have married one of the many honest fellows who sought to win me—I might have settled down and been content as the wife of a Maine farmer. Now such a thing can never be. I have refused them all. I have dreamed false dreams, and disappointment must be my punishment. Sometimes I rebel against fate. Sometimes I am desperate, and I’ve even thought of—suicide!” She whispered the last word, and he saw in her deep, dark eyes a look of despair that stabbed him keenly. “You must not think such things, Miss Dugan!” he quickly exclaimed. “It is not true that your situation is so terrible because of your father.” “Yes it is!” she declared, almost fiercely. “You know it is, Frank Merriwell! Would you—would you want to—to marry a girl like me?” She looked at him defiantly, as if she knew he would not.