Carlisle looked out over the sunny sea, and wondered if her mother were never going to take her nap. She was twenty-three years old, and, Hun or no Hun, was certainly not displeasing to the fleshly eye. Also, she much desired to pass the time with a little sail, having already privately engaged a catboat for that express purpose. There was no reason whatever why she shouldn't have the sail, except that her mother was opposed on principle to anything that looked the least bit adventurous. "There are cinders on me yet, in spite of my bath," added Mrs. Heth, whisking through the less interesting pieces in the "Post."... "Willie's train arrives at four-thirty, I believe?" Miss Heth confirmed the belief. "I wonder, really," mused the dowager, not for the first time, "what attraction the place can offer Mr. Canning. Men are strange in their choice of amusement, to say the least." "He's tired of the hermit life, and wants to let down his bars and have a little fun." "He could have all the fun he wants in town, Cally. He has only to make a sign--" "Of course!--and be snowed under with invitations which would be odious to him, and probably roped in for something by Helen and Sue Louise Cheriton, say. He can have fun here, without its leading to anything." She added, with perverse merriment: "At least he thinks he can, not knowing that two enterprising strangers are camping right across his little trail." Mrs. Heth frowned slightly. She was a slim, rather small lady, and her fair face, at first sight, suggested an agreeable delicacy. To herself she acknowledged with pleasure that she was "spirituelle." To the observer, after a glance at her attractive upper face, the thick jaw and neck came as a surprise: so did the hands and feet. The feet, seen casually in a company, were apt to be taken for the belongings of some far stouter woman, sitting near. They were Mrs. Heth's, however; and she had also a small round birthmark on her left temple, which a deft arrangement of the hair almost concealed, and a small dark mustache, which was not so fortunately placed. She was sane and sound as to judgment, and her will had raised the House of Heth as by a steam derrick. Miss Heth, gazing down at three or four hardy bathers, who splashed and shouted at the hotel float, said, laughing: "Truly, mamma, what do you suppose the Cheritons would have given Willie for the splendid tip?"