"I?" quickened Rollins. "I?" across his impatient, irritated face, an expression of frankly scientific ecstasy flared up like an explosion. "Why those shells, you know!" glowed Rollins. "That last consignment! Why I should have been cataloging shells!" "There you have it!" cried Kennilworth. "Either you've got to sew all day long with Miss Davies--or else she'll have to catalog shells with you!" "Sew?" hooted Rollins. "Oh, I'd just love to catalog shells!" cried the May Girl. In that single instant the somewhat indeterminate quiver of her lips had bloomed into a real smile. By a dexterous movement, released from Rollins's arm, she turned and fled for the door. "Up-stairs, you mean, don't you?" she cried. The smile had reached her eyes now. In another minute it seemed as though even her hair would be all laughter. "At the big table in the upper hall? Where you were working yesterday? One, on one side of the table--and one--the other? And one, the _other_!" she giggled triumphantly. With unflagging agility Rollins started after her. "What I had really planned," he grinned, "was a walk on the beach." "Arm--in--arm!" mused young Kennilworth. "Eh! You think you're smart, don't you!" grinned Rollins. "Yes, quite so," acknowledged Kennilworth. "But if you really want to see smartness on its native heath just pipe your eye to-morrow when I dawn on the horizon as an engaged man!" "You?" called the May Girl. Staring back through the mahogany banisters her face looked fairly striped with astonishment. "You certainly announced your desire," said Kennilworth, "to go right through the whole list. Didn't you?" "Oh, but I didn't mean--everybody," parried the May Girl. Her mouth and her eyes and her hair were all laughing together now. "Oh, Goodness me--not _everybody_!" she gesticulated, with a fine air of disdain. "Not the married men," explained the Bride. "No, I'm sure she discriminated against the married men," chuckled the Bridegroom. "Well--she sha'n't discriminate against _me_!" snapped young Kennilworth. Absurd as it was he looked angry. Young Kennilworth, one might infer, was not accustomed to having women discriminate against him. "You made the plan and you'll jolly-well keep to it!" affirmed young Kennilworth. "Oh, all right," laughed the May Girl. "If you really insist! But for a boy who's as truly unselfish as you are about nursery-governessing other people's Pom dogs, and saving your last taste of anything for your old Old Daddy--you've certainly got the worst manners! "Manners!" drawled George Keets. "This is no test. Wait--till you see his engagement manners!" "Oh, she'll 'wait' all right!" sniffed young Kennilworth, and turned on his heel. Paul Brenswick, searching hard through the shipping news in the morning paper, looked up with a faint shadow of concern. "What's the grouch?" he questioned.