her something which he saw she wanted, and, one thing leading to
another, as things have a way of doing where young and attractive people
are concerned, they were presently engaged in an interchange of small
talk, but before John was moved to the point of disclosing himself on
the warrant of a former acquaintance she had finished her breakfast.

The weather continued very stormy for two days, and during that time
Miss Blake did not appear at table. At any rate, if she breakfasted
there it was either before or after his appearance, and he learned
afterward that she had taken luncheon and dinner in her sister's room.

The morning of the third day broke bright and clear. There was a long
swell upon the sea, but the motion of the boat was even and endurable to
all but the most susceptible. As the morning advanced the deck began to
fill with promenaders, and to be lined with chairs, holding wrapped-up
figures, showing faces of all shades of green and gray.

John, walking for exercise, and at a wholly unnecessary pace, turning at
a sharp angle around the deck house, fairly ran into the girl about whom
he had been wondering for the last two days. She received his somewhat
incoherent apologies, regrets, and self-accusations in such a spirit of
forgiveness that before long they were supplementing their first
conversation with something more personal and satisfactory; and when he
came to the point of saying that half by accident he had found out her
name, and begged to be allowed to tell her his own, she looked at him
with a smile of frank amusement and said: "It is quite unnecessary, Mr.
Lenox. I knew you instantly when I saw you at table the first night;
but," she added mischievously, "I am afraid your memory for people you
have known is not so good as mine."

"Well," said John, "you will admit, I think, that the change from a
little girl in short frocks to a tall young woman in a tailor-made gown
might be more disguising than what might happen with a boy of fifteen or
so. I saw your name in the passenger list with Mr. and Mrs. Carling, and
wondered if it could be the Mary Blake whom I really did remember, and
the first night at dinner, when I heard your sister call Mr. Carling
'Julius,' and heard him call you 'Mary,' I was sure of you. But I hardly
got a fair look at your face, and, indeed, I confess that if I had had
no clew at all I might not have recognized you."

"I think you would have been quite excusable," she replie