might not be quite fair, in a place so
secluded and remote, and with such sentimental influences, shut in as
they were to the sea and the sky.

"It seems like a world by itself," she began, as in continuation of her
thought. "They say you can see Gay Head Light from here."

"Yes. And Newport to the left there, with its towers and trees rising
out of the sea. It is quite like the Venice Lagoon in this light."

"I think I like Newport better at this distance. It is very poetical.
I don't think I like what is called the world much, when I am close to
it."

The remark seemed to ask for sympathy, and Mr. King ventured: "Are you
willing to tell me, Miss Benson, why you have not seemed as happy at
Newport as elsewhere? Pardon me; it is not an idle question." Irene, who
seemed to be looking away beyond Gay Head, did not reply. "I should
like to know if I have been in any way the cause of it. We agreed to
be friends, and I think I have a friend's right to know." Still no
response. "You must see--you must know," he went on, hurriedly, "that it
cannot be a matter of indifference to me."

"It had better be," she said, as if speaking deliberately to herself,
and still looking away. But suddenly she turned towards him, and the
tears sprang to her eyes, and the words rushed out fiercely, "I wish I
had never left Cyrusville. I wish I had never been abroad. I wish I had
never been educated. It is all a wretched mistake."

King was unprepared for such a passionate outburst. It was like a rift
in a cloud, through which he had a glimpse of her real life. Words of
eager protest sprang to his lips, but, before they could be uttered,
either her mood had changed or pride had come to the rescue, for she
said: "How silly I am! Everybody has discontented days. Mr. King, please
don't ask me such questions. If you want to be a friend, you will let me
be unhappy now and then, and not say anything about it."

"But, Miss Benson--Irene--"

"There--'Miss Benson' will do very well."

"Well, Miss--Irene, then, there was something I wanted to say to you the
other day in Paradise--"

"Look, Mr. King. Did you see that wave? I'm sure it is nearer our feet
than when we sat down here."

"Oh, that's just an extra lift by the wind. I want to tell you. I must
tell you that life--has all changed since I met you--Irene, I--"

"There! There's no mistake-about that. The last wave came a foot higher
than the other!"

King sprang up. "Perhaps it is the