"No, you didn't, and I never expect you will. But you are such a saucy, fascinating little wood-nymph that I couldn't help it. I am sorry, though, that you and your worthy aunt refused my yacht yesterday. I wanted an opportunity to get better acquainted with her and yourself as well, and thought that a good way. "Do you love the ocean," he continued, as Chip made no response, "and is this village your real home, or do you reside at Peaceful Valley?" "I live here now," returned Chip, resolving to be brief in all her answers and hoping he would betake himself away. She did not like him, nor his smooth, polished speech. She felt that it was all affected, and that at heart he meant no good toward her. Then his failure to recognize her when with his lady friends still rankled. She knew well enough that he dared not admit acquaintance with a calico-clad country girl at that moment. And what the gossips of Christmas Cove insinuated about him and this widow awoke her contempt. Totally unused to the ways of fashionable society as she was, for him to play court to a widow evidently ten or fifteen years his senior seemed unnatural. His almost nauseating and persistent flattery of herself was equally objectionable. All this flashed over her now while he was talking. "You must find it lonesome here," he said, in response to her admission; "but perhaps you have a beau, a sweetheart, somewhere, whom you care for." Chip colored slightly, but made no answer. "I'm sure you haven't here," he went on, "for I've not seen an eligible fellow native to this village since I came." He paused a moment, awaiting an admission, and then continued: "How do you pass the time, anyway, and isn't life here monotonous? Don't you long for some excitement, some fun, some color to it all? I've watched these villagers now for three weeks and their lives seem so prosy, so dead slow, it is painful. They get up, eat, chase the cows and chickens, hoe in the gardens, mow hay, and every blessed woman wears the same calico gown six days in the week. Sundays they all spruce up, go to meeting, and the next week repeat the programme. Isn't it so?" "I presume it is," answered Chip, with rising ire; "but if folks here weren't satisfied, they could move away, couldn't they? And if it's all so dull, what did you come here for? Nobody asked you, did they?" "No," he responded, laughing, "no one did, and no one will miss me when I go--not even you. The only redeeming feature is that they all seem willing to take my money." "Would you stay if they weren't," she returned, still more hotly, "would you sponge on us folks and sneer at us as well?" "Keep cool, my dear girl," he answered unruffled, "keep cool, and let your lovely hair grow. I'm not sneering at you or any one. I am merely stating facts. To us who live in the whirl of city life, a few weeks here is a delightful change, and we are glad to pay well for it. I am only speaking of how it must seem to live this way all the time."