"It is evident enough that Rodney is in love with you, my dear," said Prue's mother as she kissed her niece, "and you'll be happy ever after, of course; and that's the way things ought to be." The marriage was to take place on the morrow. At eight o'clock on the night before, the family rose from the dinner-table. The two girls disappeared up the stairs. The mothers sat in the drawing-room over a fire of logs on the hearth, talking over, for the twentieth time, every detail of the next day. Had Caro really got everything in her trunks? Was she to have the right wraps on board ship? Lawrence went out of the house. He lingered on the piazza. He lighted a match and looked at the barometer. "Set fair," he said, aloud. He took off his hat and passed his hand over his forehead. "That's good," he went on, still aloud; "I'm glad it's set fair. Caro ought to have everything fair; and I shall have fair weather, too, if I'm with her. There was never a luckier fellow in the world than I am." He kept his hat off. He looked up at the sparkling heavens as he said, reverently: "Pray God I may make her as happy as she deserves to be!" He went on down the path that led towards the water, not minding much which way he was going. There was a brisk southwest wind blowing, though it was not cool; rather there was a softness in the air, which was full of the noise of insects. All at once the young man turned with a distinct purpose towards the bay. He had thought of the _Vireo_, which lay moored at the wharf in the inlet. "I'll go out for an hour in her," he thought. He hastened across the field, and in a few moments was going down the slope of the shore. It was not a clear night, for clouds swept up from the south and hastened over the sky, so that the stars shone out only intermittently in the deep blue-black of the heavens. This was a wind to drive the _Vireo_ at a fine pace over the bay. Lawrence was impatient to be off. As he unfastened the rope from the post on the wharf, something came pell-mell down the beach, clattering over the shingle and up to his side. "Oh, I say!" cried Leander, "is that you? I didn't know but it was some scamp goin' to steal the _Vireo_." "Did you think you could help it?" asked Lawrence, as he flung down the rope. "You bet. Goin' out?" "Yes. Why aren't you in bed?" "Bed? Ain't you green? Guess I'll go with you." And Leander prepared to clamber on board. But Lawrence was not in a mood to hear the boy's chatter. He reached forward and took hold of Lee's jacket collar, lifting him back on to the wharf. "I'd rather be alone," he explained; "and Aunt Tishy'd be sure to worry about you." As he spoke he leaped into the boat and began to push it off from the planks. Contrary to Lawrence's expectation, Leander submitted calmly, not to say hilariously. He was heard to dance about on the wharf, and to laugh.