Below in the yacht yard the master gave orders, and the machinery of the marine railway began its clanking chorus. Bettina glanced over the rail. "Bobbie's boat is going out," she said, "and he and Justin are on board." Justin saw her and called, "May I come up?" Bettina shook her head at him. "If he thinks I'm going to shriek an answer to the housetops, he's mistaken." Again she shook her head at him, and Justin immediately offered excuses to Bobbie. "You won't mind," he said, "if I go up there?" Bobbie jeered. "Talk about me! You're here to-day and there to-morrow. Yesterday it was Sara, and now it's Betty Dolce." "It was never Sara." "That's what I said when I fell in love with Doris, but you wouldn't believe me. And I can't quite see the difference." "I've never cared for Sara in that way." "Then you have jolly well flirted with her." "Don't try to be English with your 'jolly wells.'" Bobbie turned his back on Justin. "I suppose, then, you're not going to have lunch with me?" he said over his shoulder. "Why can't we all have lunch with you?" "Who is--all?" "Betty, and Mrs. Martens--and me----" "Doesn't Doris come into it?" "Of course, if you can get her up." "I can always get her up. You know that. But there's nobody just now in the world for you but Betty Dolce." Nobody but Bettina! Justin admitted it to himself triumphantly. Please God, there should never be any one but Bettina! Perhaps something of his thought showed in his face, for Bobbie clapped him on the shoulder with a hearty, "Go in and win her, old man, and we'll have a double wedding." "If my wedding," solemnly, "were as sure as yours, I'd burn incense to the gods." "Well, why don't you make it sure?" "I can't. She stands on her pedestal, and I can't reach up to her." "Man, you're afraid of her." "It isn't that. But I'm not in this race to fall out, Bobbie. I guess you can see that." Bobbie nodded. "Anybody who has eyes can see it," he said. The little yacht was in the water now, still helpless because of her furled sails. Justin, making a bridge of the small boats tied to the floating pier, gained dry land, and continued his conversation with Bobbie across the intervening space. "Suppose we cut the luncheon out, and go for a sail this afternoon. We can land off Gloucester way and have tea at the Lobster Pot." "Tea, meaning lobster sandwiches," said Bobbie. "Do you know, Justin, that the whole coast is blossoming with lobster sandwiches? Once upon a time one ate muffins with their tea. But now nobody takes tea. They take coffee and lobster sandwiches. And I don't like sea foods, and I don't drink coffee. Otherwise it is all right." "We'll have muffins and jam. And you and Doris shall have a table by yourselves, and Bettina and I, and we'll ask Anthony to look after Mrs. Martens." He stopped. "No, we won't ask Anthony--he has a fashion of claiming Bettina. He's her guardian, you know."