hat,' said Frank King, quickly. 'I don't think
it would be safe.'

'A sailor afraid of boats!' said Miss Edith with a laugh.

'Oh, as for that,' said Nan, warmly, 'every one knows that it's those
who are most ignorant of boats who are most reckless in them. It's
very easy to be brave if you're stupidly ignorant. I know papa used to
say it was always the most experienced sportsman who took most care
about unloading his gun on going into a house. Why, if you're walking
along the pier, and see some young fools standing up in a boat and
rocking it until the gunwale touches the water, you may be sure they're
haberdashers down from the borough for a day, who have never been in a
boat before.'

In the dusk they could not see that Frank King's face flushed with
pleasure at this warm defence; but he only said quietly,

'You see there will be ten or twelve steamers churning about in the
dark; and if some careless boatman were to make a mistake--or lose his
head--you might be under the paddles in a second. I think you should
either get on board or stay ashore; and I should say you were as well
off here as anywhere. You will see the procession on the lake very
well; and even if they should halt over there at Cadenabbia for the
music, we could hear it here excellently.'

'It is very good advice, Edith,' said Miss Beresford, seriously. 'I
don't at all like small boats. And there goes the first dinner-bell;
so let's make haste.'

At dinner Frank King did not say much; he seemed to be thinking of his
departure on the morrow. Once, however, when they happened to be
talking about Brighton, he looked across the table to Nan, and said,

'Oh, by the way, what was the name of the woman you told me about--whom
you met on the downs?'

'Singing Sal,' answered Nan, with composure.

'I shall ask about her when I get to Portsmouth,' he said.

'She is seldom in the big towns; she prefers tramping by herself along
the country roads.'

'Is this another of Nan's _protegees_?' asked Miss Beresford. 'She
knows the most extraordinary people. She is like the children when
they are sent down to the beach when the tide is low; they are always
most delighted with the monstrous and hideous things they can pick up.'

'You must have seen Singing Sal,' said Nan quietly. 'And she is
neither monstrous nor hideous. She is very well dressed, and she sings
with a great deal of feeling.'

'Perhaps she will come and have afternoon tea with