"I've thought it all out," said Willy very firmly, "and I wouldn't bother you the least little bit, not the least. And we think alike about so many things. I believe I could make it all right with your people. I can do anything, when _you_ are backing me. It would ease my mind awfully; I should be sure to win the cup. I know that would please my father, and he'd help us, maybe. Besides, I've a fortune of my own; I'd settle it all on you--" "What _do_ you mean?" cried Lady Jean. "You wouldn't need to marry anybody else if you married _me_," said Willy. "_My word!_" gasped Lady Jean. "But you told me you didn't want to marry _anybody_." "I shouldn't mind _you_ so much," said he. She was thoughtful, her own mind a chaos to herself. She stole a furtive glance at his miserable face; something tender and compassionate and strange made her lips quiver, but she set them closely. "You would be making an awful sacrifice for me?" He did not deny it. "It would be an awful sacrifice for me, too." "I know," he acquiesced sadly. "Still--I suppose you ought to have your mind settled before to-morrow or it will get on your game." "Yes, that's just it! I'd be awfully grateful--" Without any warning she began to laugh. "I think you are the funniest boy in the world! I don't want to marry anybody. I want to live with daddy and take care of him and be like Aunt Jean, but if I _have_ to marry anybody, I'd rather marry you. Shall we let it go at that for the present?" "You are awfully good," cried the boy. He wondered at the extraordinary calm, almost elation, of his mood. That he should be engaged to be married and not be revolving suicide! He had read of the exaltation of self-sacrifice--maybe this was it. But how hard it must be for her. "I'll make it just as easy for you as I can--dear." He added the last word very softly. Probably she didn't hear it, for she answered in her ordinary tone, not in the least offended, that she knew he would, then immediately demanded a sight of the mowing-machine; since it wasn't there, he would better take her home. "Don't you begin to love this island?" he said, as he obeyed her. "It is lovely," she said: "I never thought I could really like any place without mountains, but I do." "I love mountains," said Willy. "They were again surprised at their similarity of taste. Motor-cars and carriages passed them continually; luxurious open vehicles, victorias and golf-carts and automobiles with their hoods lowered, disclosing billows of diaphanous feminine finery and pretty, uncovered girlish heads. Willy marveled over his own ease as he returned greetings punctiliously. A week ago he would have raced his horse into the darkest woodland road to escape a passing salute, the hazard of a little casual badinage. "How pretty American girls are," said Lady Jean a little wistfully; "such lovely wavy hair."