He knew that the Quaintrees had chosen the place; indeed, that had been the attraction for him. And Frank Amberley had seen him during his visit to London, and mentioned his intention of coming. Captain Desfrayne set off to pay a visit of ceremony to Lady Quaintree. On the way, however, the scene was so bright, so alluring, so unlike what he had been condemned to for some time, that he paused to contemplate it. How many minutes he lingered he did not know, but he was aroused from a bitter-sweet day-dream by hearing some one address him by name. It was Frank Amberley. The young lawyer had left a party seated on the beach to come and intercept Paul; but returned to them, followed by his treasure-trove. Paul’s heart beat violently, for he perceived Lois Turquand, dazzlingly beautiful as a sea-nymph. He knew not what he said, either to the ladies or to Lord Quaintree and his son, and sat down mechanically when Blanche moved a little to make room for him on the beach. The remarks, the replies, the notes, and queries, were all commonplace enough, so Paul could keep up a show of attention without betraying his abstracted state of mind. “Charming, indeed,” he had just returned, to an observation of Lady Quaintree’s--Lois was absolutely silent. Frank Amberley, too loyal to gain any advantage by treachery, would have explained to Lois that the sad story he told her had ended less tragically than it threatened to do; but he had not yet found any opportunity of speaking to Miss Turquand undisturbed. He had, in fact, preceded Captain Desfrayne by only a couple of days. Gerald had continued to devote himself to Blanche, in spite of his mother’s evidences of displeasure. Lady Quaintree had begun to despair of being able to secure Lois as a daughter-in-law. Blanche was amused by the little flirtation into which Gerald had drawn her, but she cared not a straw for him; while the grave, handsome face, the soft, musical accents of Frank Amberley began to dangerously haunt her dreams. The little party rose, and Paul Desfrayne accompanied them a short way. For part of the time he found himself lingering behind the others, with Miss Turquand. An almost irrepressible desire to confide in her rose in his heart; but he crushed the wish, for this was neither the time nor place. A few impetuous words, however, gave her an inkling of the change that had come to him, and she glanced up at him. A look of passionate admiration--of dawning love--made her blush deeply and avert her head, and hurry a few steps to rejoin the others. But when they were about to part, she gave him her hand with a little happy smile of confidence. The tranquil, sunlit days glided by, and lengthened into weeks.