"Be you goin' to set out here?" she roared at Linda. "How beautiful it is!" escaped involuntarily from the guest. "Then I'll git you some warm things. You're sick and delicate!" yelled Blanche Aurora as one whom the roar of old Ocean could not down. Linda looked at the slim child in the faded gingham. The salt air went through her piercingly. "I'm not delicate at all!" she protested, but little cared her mentor for her defense. She straightway brought a steamer-rug, shawl and pillows from a near-by closet. "There!" she said, depositing them in the hammock on the glassed-in end of the porch. She gave her queer little grimace of a smile and again her thin cheeks wrinkled. "Miss Barry said you looked like a hothouse plant, so I guess you'd better stay under glass for a spell." "Aren't you cold yourself in that cal--that thin dress?" asked Linda. "I dunno. I don't believe so." Linda's eyes grew softer. It was so evident that the little caretaker had small leisure to think of her sensations. "Lay down and I'll cover you," commanded Blanche Aurora. "Lie down? No, indeed. I'm just up." The help paused with the rug in her thin arms. She was undecided as to whether to humor this rebellion. "Blanche Aurora, do you like candy?" The slender face lost its worried expression and grew younger. "There ain't much sense to that question," she returned. "Then come into the house with me," said Linda. The wraps were dropped in the hammock and willing feet followed the guest. From a cabinet in the corner of the room Linda chose the reddest of red boxes, generous in size, and placed it in a pair of eager hands. Blanche Aurora viewed the prize, amazed. "I ain't ever in my life had all the candy I wanted," she said in such awed tones that Linda smiled and reached for a violet box which she piled upon the other. "Oh!" gasped the recipient. She looked up at the pale guest with a new realization of what it meant to be a millionaire's daughter. Gold plates and carriages sounded fine, but it was only like hearing about Cinderella and other impossible maidens. Here were tangible chocolates given away recklessly and with nonchalance. What a consciousness that bespoke! As they stood there, Linda, watching her erstwhile mentor endure an ecstatic paralysis, Miss Barry and Mrs. Porter entered. "What are you doing, Linda Barry!" exclaimed her aunt. "I'll keep those boxes myself and give the child a few at a time. She'll make herself sick." She hurried forward, but Linda pressed her back. "Let her make herself sick," she pleaded. "I'll take care of her." Miss Barry looked from one to the other undecidedly. She recognized this surprisingly good symptom in her niece, but such a wholesale relaxation of discipline toward the most willful, stubborn child on the Cape was unheard of.