Monica, feeling somewhat out of it, followed the others rather more slowly, and thus secured a good look at the newcomers while they were engaged in greeting Olive and Elsa. There was no doubt as to which was which: the elder, of medium height, slightly built, dark, with brown eyes, was a Franklyn all over; while his companion, a tall, broad-shouldered youth, with merry blue eyes and curly hair, although he was not in the least like his sister, bore an unmistakable resemblance to Mr. Drury. Raising his panama hat, round which his college colours were twisted, he came forward with outstretched hand, and Monica thought she had never liked any one so well, at first sight, as this debonair undergraduate. She had previously somewhat sneered at Amethyst’s praises of her paragon brother, but she could understand her feelings now that she had met Marcus Drury. She almost forgot his companion, until a quiet, manly voice, so different from the other’s boyish tones, said, "How do you do, Miss Beauchamp? I am very glad to meet my sister’s friend." And she found herself shaking hands with Olive’s eldest brother. A very short time sufficed to put them all at their ease, and then, as the tide was fast going out, they went in different directions for their bathe. But an hour later found the young people all together again, and the girls were charmed with the proposal that they should go for a row, there being just an hour left before dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Drury, who had undertaken to keep Mrs. Beauchamp company until their return, watched the boatful with interest, until Roger’s and Marcus’ even strokes had rowed it so far as to be scarcely more than a speck. "Dear boy," murmured Mrs. Drury, as she took up the knitting she had neglected; and her husband smiled as he said, quizzically: "Do you mean Roger?" "I meant Marcus, of course," replied his wife, with a smile, "but Roger is a dear boy, too. I only wish----" "What do you wish, Nora?" queried her husband, in a lower tone, as he tilted his black straw hat over his eyes, to protect them from the glare of the midday sun. "Why, the same as I know you wish, Herbert," was the reply, "that in choosing the medical profession Roger had been actuated by the one desire to follow in the steps of the Good Physician." "Yes, I would that he had, but I fear it was not so. But, Nora, motives and hearts, too, can be changed. Why should not Roger Franklyn go back to St. Adrian’s ’transformed’?" "Ah! why not?" And little Mrs. Drury’s eyes grew earnest, as she looked out at the tiny black speck dancing on the ocean in the distance, and she prayed that God would answer that other mother’s prayers, and give to Roger a new purpose, a new ideal in life. The days flew swiftly by, what with picnics, tennis, bathing, boating, and many other amusements and enjoyments, and Sunday dawned.