Something inside of me sniggered at the phrase, for it was purely a business one. But I was too busy just then figuring the ins and outs of the matter to give way to any hilarity. "Thanks so much! What a relief!" she sighed, with a nod to her silent companion, who nodded in return. "Oh!--may I have five cents' worth of pins,--Mister, Mister----" "Mr. Bremner," I added. "Thank you!" "Hair pins, hat pins, safety pins or clothes pins?" I queried. "Just pins,--with points and heads on them,--if you don't mind." I bowed ceremoniously. "We shall be over this afternoon, when we have made a list of the supplies we require," she went on. As I hunted for the pins, she began to look in her purse for a five cent piece. "Oh!--never mind," I said; "I can charge these to your bill in the afternoon." "No! thank you," she replied, airily and lightly;--oh! so very, very airily that I would not have been surprised had she flown away. "Your terms are strictly cash;--I would not disturb your business routine for worlds." As I held out the package to her, I stopped and, for the first time, I felt really at ease and equal to her. "Possibly you would prefer that I send this package round by the delivery wagon?" I said. She picked the paper package from between my fingers and her chin went into the air at a most dangerous elevation, while her eyelids closed over her eyes, allowing long, golden-brown lashes to brush her cheeks. Then, without a word, she turned her back on me and passed through the doorway with her companion, or chaperon, or aunt, or whatever relation to her the elderly lady might be. "So foolish!" I heard her exclaim, under her breath, then she went over something on her fingers to the elderly lady, who laughed and started in to talk volubly. The mystery of that madam's benign smile solved itself: she was evidently talkative enough, but she was as deaf as a wooden block and used her smile to cover her deficiency. Had I only known, how I could have defended myself against, and lashed out in return at, that tantalising, self-possessed, wit-battling, and, despite it all, extremely feminine young lady! They left my place and went over to their own bungalow. Soon they reappeared with large sun-hats on their heads, for the sun was beautifully bright and exceedingly warm. They went down to the beach together. The elderly lady got into the rowing boat, while my late antagonist pushed it into the water and sprang into it with a most astounding agility. In a few moments, they were out on the Bay. Miss Grant,--as I remembered her name was,--handled the oars like an Oxford stroke and with that amazing ease, attained only after long practice, which makes the onlooker, viewing the finished article in operation, imagine that he can do it as well himself, if not a shade or so better,--yes! and standing on his head at that.