Unconscious of plots and counterplots, Cosden and Huntington sauntered innocently onto the piazza after their noonday meal. Billy had managed to get himself invited to the Thatchers' table, so the two friends had lunched by themselves. Both were self-centered, but neither noticed it because of his own abstraction. Cosden was measuring up the girl as his opportunity for observation broadened, Huntington was still affected by his experience with Hamlen. Curiously enough, in spite of their friendship, or perhaps because their intimacy gave each so clear a knowledge of the other's characteristics neither one cared to speak of the subject which was uppermost in his mind. "Monty is too much of a cynic to appreciate my situation here," Cosden told himself; and Huntington, without even mentally putting it into words, knew that Hamlen did not and never would appeal to Cosden. Shortly after the men had lighted their cigars the party from the Thatchers' table joined them. Marian noticed that Edith casually dropped into the chair beside Cosden's, and was amused to see that she began operations at once. "What are we going to do this afternoon?" Edith queried breezily. "We've all been going since breakfast," Stevens suggested; "why not sit still for a while?" "Ricky!" said his sister severely, "no one asked your opinion. What in the world is the use of sitting still? We can do that at home." "What do you suggest?" Cosden asked her incautiously. "Have you been to Harrington Sound?" "No," he admitted; recognizing at once that he had given an unwise opening. "Then why don't you let me show you the way?" Edith asked, as if the thought had only just occurred to her. A chorus of approval went up from Huntington, Mrs. Thatcher and Billy. "Suppose we all go," Cosden said, seeking safety in numbers. "We have taken the drive several times," Mrs. Thatcher abetted Edith in her conspiracy, "and I am sure Mr. Huntington is too gallant to leave us. You can drive over and back comfortably by dinner-time." "Won't you stop on the way home and get me some coral sand?" Merry asked. "Edith will show you the beach." A drive with Miss Stevens was the last thing Cosden had intended, but as there seemed no possible escape he rose to the occasion and at once ordered the victoria. Nor was the enthusiasm of Billy's send-off balm-of-Gilead to his soul as the carriage moved away from the hotel steps. Edith, in a suit of white Bermuda doe-skin, with a small purple hat perched rakishly on her head, and carrying a purple parasol with handle of abalone pearl, was looking her best, and to the amused onlookers her snapping eyes and beaming countenance seemed to promise compensation. "I wish we might have a word together about Hamlen," Huntington remarked to Marian as they turned back to the piazza. "That is the very subject which is uppermost in my mind," she replied eagerly. "You saw him this morning?"