"Oh," cried the girl, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Palmer. I oughtn't to laugh, but the humorous side of this awful trip was too much for me. A friend of my mother's was going to escort us yesterday, and he was taken sick at the last moment and couldn't come. Then Dick got that telegram, and now my mother's lost the train. It's like the rhyme of the ten little nigger boys. I wonder which of us will drop out next. Please promise you won't desert me without warning." Her blue eyes sought Palmer's frankly and innocently enough, and yet with just a trace of coquetry. Palmer leaned a little toward her. "I promise," he said, "if you won't run away, I won't." The girl laughed delightedly. "It's a bargain," she cried. "I think it's really fun. Thank goodness, I have the key to the house. Mother will get the next train with Dick, I suppose, and we can have everything ready for them. We'll have a fair division of labor. You will have to carry all the luggage and row me over to the island, and then you can have your shooting for a reward, and I'll cook the supper. Is that fair?" "That's fair," acquiesced Palmer. "At least, it sounds fair. But how do I know how good a cook you are." "Well, I like that!" exclaimed the girl. "And how do I know whether you can row a boat or not? We've got to take each other on trust, as near as I can see." Palmer laughed. He found his little adventure much to his liking, and more and more, as the train rattled on, he found himself yielding to the spell of the girl's charm. Down from the little station through the woods to the lake she piloted him, and he made good the first part of the bargain as he rowed the little boat across, in the teeth of a stiff northerly breeze, in a style as good as Gordon's own. Once arrived at the house, she showed him the way to the point, and a few moments later, Palmer, gun in hand, was striding down the path. Left alone, a curious change came over the girl. The laughter faded from her face, leaving it white and drawn, and she half fell, half threw herself into the big easy chair in front of the fire which Palmer had set blazing. "God, what a strain," she muttered to herself. "All right so far, though, if I don't break down and spoil everything. But he oughtn't to have asked me to do it. It's too much for any one. Now let me think--" For ten minutes she sat motionless. Then, with a sigh, she rose somewhat unsteadily to her feet, and busied herself about the room. Comfortably near the fire she placed the round table, and set it tastefully for four. Then for a time she was busy in the tiny kitchen. Finally, returning to the living-room to find it almost in darkness, she struck a match to light the lamp, and, as she did so, a sudden gust of wind from the half open door blew it out in her hands. She stepped to the window and looked out, and then stopped short, struck with the unexpected change that had taken place in the whole aspect of things.