"Now remember," he murmured tenderly, "you hold my secret; and must keep it sacredly." "Have no fear of me. Watch your other confidante," Lily whispered, her manner full as his of tenderness. "Oh, she is—" "Shaw told ’em," began the persistent and suspicious parent, coming out of the parlour;—but the footman was gone down the steps. Hayward’s mood changed in a twinkling and with a jolt. He walked a hundred paces thinking confusedly. The question slowly framed itself in his mind.... "Do I love Lily?" But he did not answer it. *CHAPTER XX* The oncoming summer promised to be long and uneventful for Helen Phillips. Late in May her mother took her and her two little sisters to Stag Inlet, leaving a perspiring father to await the perverse pleasure of a stubborn Congress before beginning his vacation, and Elise to set out upon a round of visiting that would permit her to see very little of home during the hot months. To Mrs. Phillips the restfulness of "Hill-Top" was gratefully refreshing after her trying first winter in Washington. She gave herself over fully to its soothing quiet and arranged her daily programmes on the simplest lines. Hayward, because of his versatile abilities an indispensable part of the simple Hill-Top outfit, did not have an opportunity before leaving for Stag Inlet to see Lily Porter again. Nor indeed was he regretful on that account. He was in a state of indecision and wanted time to think. He heartily wished that he had not been so free with his confidences: yet could not justify this feeling when he sought a reason for it. After awhile he wrote Lily a letter which was a model of diplomacy—which said much and said nothing. It did not disappoint or displease her. She read between the lines an admirable modesty and restraint, complimentary to herself and true to the artistic instinct which, she had read somewhere, always saves a full confession for a personal interview. She took her own good time to answer it. She felt sure of the man’s devotion, despite the fact that his other and unknown confidante was a woman other than his mother. The tenor of her reply was reserved, though not discouraging. Hayward’s impatience was not excited by the delay, nor his interest quickened by the coy missive. * * * * * The first morning Helen was on the lake after coming to the Inlet her launch passed a small catboat commanded by Jimmie Radwine and flying a Yale pennant from her diminutive masthead. The crew, consisting of Captain Jimmie and another youngster, both younger than Helen, were yelling themselves dizzy. "What’s Jimmie Radwine saying, Helen?" asked Nell Stewart. Jimmie had no intention of leaving them uninformed. He had put his boat about, and come up alongside. "Hello, Helen!" he shouted, "Harvard can’t play ball! Quincy can’t pitch! Tom got a home run and two two-baggers off him in four times up! Rah! rah! rah! YALE!"