"Tell me," he begged, "is this your house, really'n truly?" It brought, as he knew it would, her ready smile. "Yep," she nodded. "And is that your tree out there?" "Yep." "Ah!" he sighed. "It's great! It's Paradise. I've dreamed of just such a heavenly place. And Andy says we've been here two weeks." "Yes--and a little more." "My holiday half gone!" His mood suddenly changed from its jocund and boyish manner, and he turned earnestly toward Agatha. "I don't know, dear girl, all that has happened since that night--with you--on the water. Hand shuts me off most villainously. But I know it's Heaven being here, with Aleck and every one so good to me, and you! You've come back, somehow, like a reality from my dreams. I watch for you. You're all I think of, whether I'm awake or asleep." Agatha earnestly regarded his frank face, with its laughing, true eyes. "Jimmy," she said--he had begged her to call him that--"it seems as if I, too, had known you a long time. More than these little two weeks." "It is more; you said so," put in Jim. "Yes; a little more. And if it hadn't been for you, I shouldn't be here, or anywhere. I often think of that." "You see!" he cried. "I had to have you, even if I followed you half-way round the globe; even if I had to jump into the sea. Kismet--you can't escape me!" But Agatha was only half smiling. "No," she protested, "it is not that. I owe--" Jim put his fingers on her lips. "Tut, tut! Dear girl, you owe nothing, except to your own courage and good swimming. But as for me, why, you know I'm yours." "James," Agatha could not help preaching a bit, "just because we happen to be the actors in an adventure is no reason, no real reason, why we should be silly about each other. We don't have to end the story that way." "Oh, don't we! We'll see!" shouted Jim. "And I'm not silly, if some other people are. I don't see why I should be cheated out of a perfectly good climax, if you put it that way, any more than the next fellow. Agatha, dearest--" But she wouldn't listen to him. "No, no," she protested, slowly but earnestly. "Look here, Mr. James Hambleton, of Lynn! I promise to do anything, or everything, that you honestly want, after you get well. I'll listen to you then. But I'm not going to let a man who is just out of a delirium make love to me." "But I'm not just out. I only had a whack on the head, and that's nothing. I'm strong as an ox. I'm saner than anybody. Do listen to me, Agatha." "No--no, I mustn't." "But tell me, dear. You're free? You're not--" he searched for the word that suited his mood--"you're not plighted?" She smiled. "No, I'm not plighted." "Ah!" he chortled, and seized both her hands, putting them to his lips. She stood over him, looking down tenderly. [Illustration: She stood over him, looking down tenderly.] "Time for your broth, Mr. Hambleton, and Mr. Straker wants to know if he can see you," interrupted Mr. Hand.