He strode down the village street in hot haste, looking neither to the right nor left until he reached the beach, where he sought a secluded spot by the sea, where none could intrude upon his rocky retreat, and flung himself down to brood over his cruel defeat in love. And any young man--and there may be several--who has been made the victim of a lovely flirt can better imagine than I can describe the tumult of his feelings. His pain was cruel, almost unbearable, and the most intense longing came to him to throw himself into the surging sea and end everything for good and all. But pride forbid the rash deed. “She shall not know how she wounded me. I will not give her that triumph,” he vowed grimly, adding: “I’ll go to Sea View presently, pack up my traps, and leave before Sherwood returns to laugh with his fiancée over fooling me, although it looks as if there may have been foul play somewhere, for why did he tell me she was a simpering giggler, when she is really charming in her manners? And why did he keep up a clandestine acquaintance with her, not permitting me to suspect it, while all the time he was courting her with such devotion? He must have been afraid of me, jealous somehow, though why I can’t guess, for men like him, with loads of money, have only to throw the handkerchief, and any girl he looks at will jump--only too glad of the chance. This Daisie Bell, with her rare beauty, will be only too glad to marry him, of course--even if she loved some poor man better. Bah! The whole business disgusts me. I’ll go away out of the whole mess before to-morrow.” Just then, to his intense disgust, for he despised petticoats at that moment, he heard a chatter of feminine voices, which he recognized as belonging to Mrs. Fleming’s guests--the Misses Brown, Miss Nadia Lee, and Mrs. Poyntz, a jolly young matron. They peeped over the ledge of rocks where he was hiding, and the married lady exclaimed delightedly: “Oh, there’s Mr. Bain hiding from us, the naughty man! Come up here directly, sir, and go with us after shells, and help carry our buckets and spades. I’m going back to Baltimore to-morrow, and my collection of shells isn’t half complete.” In his gray mood, Dallas would have liked to have sworn at the merry quartet; but as he was a gentleman, he could not afford to indulge his vicious impulse, so, throwing away the cigar with which he was beguiling his gloomy thoughts, he joined the party with secret reluctance, execrating Nadia Lee when she said banteringly: “How gloomy you looked when we were peeping over that rock at you--so dark and preoccupied--like Byron composing poetry.” “Pshaw! I never made a rhyme in my life! Wouldn’t be guilty of such nonsense! I was just thinking how confoundedly lazy I felt over going up to the house and packing my things to leave to-morrow,” he replied testily.