"The vicar. I got caught in a squall off the Head one day, and--I really wasn't in the least danger--but they were all waiting for me at the jetty, and they made a fuss--and so I had to promise that I wouldn't go out alone. And old Brownie's out with his nets--he goes with me sometimes. It's a nuisance." He stood by the window silently for a moment, then he glanced at her wistful face, and said: "I should be a poor substitute, in my present condition, for old Brownie, or old anybody else; but if you'll allow me to go with you, I shall be very grateful. I can manage the tiller, at any rate." Nell's face lit up; she wanted to go very badly; it was a "real" mackerel day, and, like the days of other fishing, not to be missed. "Will you? That's awfully kind of you! Not that I want any help; it isn't that, for I can manage the _Annie Laurie_ in half a gale; but there's a feeling that, because I'm only a girl, I'm not to be trusted alone." "I quite understand," he said. "I'll promise not to interfere, if you'll let me come." "And it may do you good--it's sure to!" she said eagerly. "There's the loveliest of breezes--you must have some wind for mackerel--and----Can you go at once?" "This very minute. I'm all ready," he said. "All right," she exclaimed, just as Dick might have done. "I'll be ready before you can say Jack Robinson!" She ran out of the room and was down again in a very few minutes. Vernon glanced at her as they left the cottage and descended the steep road. She had put on a short skirt of rough serge, with a jersey, which accentuated every flowing line of her girlish, graceful figure, and the dark hair rippled under a red tam-o'-shanter. He was familiar enough with the yachting costumes of fashion, but he thought that he had never seen anything so workmanlike and becoming as this get-up which Nell had donned so quickly and carelessly. As they walked down the steps which led to the jetty, Nell exchanging greetings at every step, an old fisherman, crippled with rheumatism, limped beside them, and helped to bring the boat to the jetty steps. Nell eyed the _Annie Laurie_ lovingly, but said apologetically: "She's a very good boat. Old, of course. She is a herring boat, and though she isn't fascinatingly beautiful, she can sail. Dick--helped by Brownie--decked her over, and Dick picked up a new set of sails last year from a man who was selling off his gear. Have you put in the bait and the lines, Willy?" "Aye, aye, Miss Nell; I'm thinkin' you'll be gettin' some mackerel if the wind holds. Let me help 'ee wi' the sail." "No, no," said Nell, "I can manage. Oh, please don't you trouble!" she added to Vernon. "If you'll give me the sheet--that's the rope by your hand." Vernon nodded, and suppressed a smile. "She'll go a bit tauter still, I think," he said, as Nell hoisted the mainsail. She looked at him. "You understand?" she said, with a little surprise. Vernon thought of his crack yacht, but answered casually: