Miss Jenny Ann did not attempt to go to sleep. She put on her dressing gown and lay down in her berth to think over their situation and decide what had best be done. The other girls were soon asleep. But in a little while Miss Jones heard a faint sound. It came from their sitting room. Some one called her name. It was Madge. Miss Jenny Ann went softly in, to find Madge still lying on the sofa, a little leather book clasped in her hands. "I wish to tell you a story, Miss Jenny Ann," began Madge solemnly. "I have never told it to any one else, but I have come to the place where I feel that I ought to talk things over with some one I can trust. I know of no one else, not even Phil, to whom I would rather tell it. Would you like to hear it?" "My dear, my dear," said Miss Jenny Ann tremulously, "I know of no one else whose confidence I should so prize as yours. But are you sure that you wish to tell me?" Madge nodded. The hands of the two met in a strong, steady clasp, then Madge began the story of her discovery in the attic of the secret drawer and its contents, and of how the vow she had made that day had been broken in what promised to be the hour of its fulfillment. After she had finished she lay back on the couch, staring out the cabin window. Knowing Madge as she did, the chaperon still sat beside her in sympathetic silence. She recognized the nobility of Madge's sacrifice. The girl's words: "He is an old man. I can not bring this humiliation upon him. My father would not wish it," rang in her ears. "I think you are right, Madge," Miss Jenny Ann said at last. "In fact, I am sure you are. But it is very bitter for you." "But don't you believe my father would wish me to keep his secret?" asked Madge anxiously. "Yes, I believe he would," responded the chaperon, after a brief hesitation. "And I shall do it," vowed Madge. "But some day, Miss Jenny Ann, perhaps the man who is really to blame for all my father's suffering will come to a realization of his own unworthiness and clear my father's name. I can't believe that Father is dead. I always think of him as being alive, and that some day I shall see him." "I hope with all my heart that you will," said Miss Jenny Ann fervently. "Now you mustn't grieve any more, dear. You must go to sleep. It is long after midnight." The chaperon bent down to kiss Madge good night. "Good night, Miss Jenny Ann," said Madge. "I shall go to see Mrs. Curtis in the morning and apologize to her for leaving the party so suddenly. I seem destined always to be making apologies." But for reasons which she could not foresee, Madge's apology was to be delayed indefinitely. * * * * * The night had grown pitch dark when Alfred Thornton crossed the bay. He had engaged a fast-going sea launch for his use during the evening of their play, and as his boat rushed along through the sea, which was rapidly growing rougher, he debated in his mind as to whether he was acting wisely.