This decision reached, he spent all of his time in convincing her that he was the one man in the world exactly suited to her protean moods. The sum of his possessions had not been made known to her, and he delighted in planning his surprise. So that when the _Blue Wing_ appeared in the harbor, he invited her for a sail in her own catboat, calmly took the helm in spite of her protests, and before she was aware of it, had made a neat landing at his own gangway. Jepson poked his head over the side and welcomed them, grinning broadly, and, following Crabb's inviting gesture, Patricia went up on deck feeling very much like the lady who had married the Lord of Burleigh. Then Jepson gave some mysterious orders and before long she was reclining luxuriously in a deck chair and the _Blue Wing_ was breasting the surges which showed the way to the open sea. "'All of this,'" quoted Crabb gayly, with a fine gesture which comprehended the whole of the North Atlantic Ocean, "'is mine and thine.'" "It's very nice of you to be so rich. Why didn't you tell me?" said Patricia. "Because I had a certain pride in wanting you to like me for myself." "You think I would have married you for your money?" "Oh, yes," he said, promptly, "of course you would. A rich man has about as much chance of entering the Kingdom of Romance as the Biblical camel has to get through the eye of the needle." "Why is it then that I find you so very much more attractive now that I've found the _Blue Wing_?" "But you found _me_ first," he laughed. "Did I?" archly. "If you still doubt it, there's the parasol!" The mention of the parasol always silenced her. CHAPTER X That was one of many cruises, and the _Blue Wing_ contributed not a little to the gayety of the waning days of summer at Mount Desert. It was the _Blue Wing_, too, that in early September brought the Wharton family, bag and baggage, southward to Philadelphia, where Mortimer Crabb lingered, hoping to exact a promise of marriage before Christmas. But Patricia would make no promises. She had a will of her own, her fiancé discovered, and had no humor to forego the independence of her spinsterhood for the responsibilities which awaited her. It was in this situation that Crabb discovered himself to be possessed of surprising virtues in tolerance and tact. Patricia, he knew, had many admirers. The woods at Bar Harbor had been, both figuratively and literally, filled with them, and most of them had been eligible. Jack Masters, and Stephen Ventnor, who lived in Philadelphia, were still warm in pursuit of the fair quarry, who had not yet consented to an announcement of her engagement to Crabb.