"Easy, Leslie, easy," cried Harry; "where are you going?" "I beg pardon," said the young man hastily, for he had unwittingly changed the course of the boat. "That's better. Any one would think you wanted to give Uncle Luke the job he talked about." Madelaine looked up hastily. "No: we will not do that, Miss Van Heldre," said Leslie smiling. "Shall I hold the sheet, Vine?" "No need," said the young man, making the rope fast. "But--" "Oh, all right. I know what you're going to say--puff of wind might lay us over as we pass one of the combes. Wasn't born here for nothing." Leslie said no more, but deferred to the opinion of the captain of the boat. "Might as well have brought a line to trail. You'd have liked to fish, wouldn't you, Vic?" "Only when we are alone," said Pradelle. "Can you tell me the name of that point, Miss Vine?" "Brea," said Louise quietly. "And that little valley?" "Tol Du. The old Cornish names must sound strange to any one from London." "Oh no," he said, bending forward to engage her in conversation. "This place is very interesting, and I shall regret going," he added with a sigh, and a thoughtful look toward the picturesque little group of houses on either side of the estuary. "I should think you will," said Harry. "Never mind, we've had a very jolly time. I say, Maddy," he whispered, "you will write to a fellow, won't you?" "No," she said quietly; "there is no need." "No need?" "Louie will be writing to you every week, and you will answer her. I shall hear how you are getting on." Harry whistled and looked angrily at his sister, who was replying to some remark made by Leslie. "Here, Vic," he said, "she's too heavy forward. Come and sit by my sister. That's better. A little more over to the side, Leslie. Always trim your boat." The changes were made, and the little yawl sped rapidly on past the headland of grey granite hoary and shaggy with moss; past black frowning masses of slaty shale, over and amongst which the waves broke in sparkling foam, and on and on by ferny hollows and rifts, down which trickled tiny streams. The day was glorious, and the reflection of the sapphire sky dyed the sea tint of a blue that seemed amethystine in its richer transparent hue. The grey gulls floated overhead, and the tiny fish they pursued made the sea flash as they played about and showed their silvery sides. But the conversation flagged. Possibly the fact of its being the last day of a pleasant sojourn acted upon the spirits of two of the party, while the third of the male occupants of the boat rather welcomed the restraint and silence, for it gave him an opportunity to sit and think and wonder what was to be his future, and what the animated countenance of Louise Vine meant as she answered the questions of her brother's friend.