rything. Now
she goes in for nothing at all except her father and his work. She
thinks we're all a lot of young fools."

"Oh, now, Sue," I put in derisively. "You people fools? How could she?"

"You'll see," my sister sweetly replied, "for she'll probably think
you're another. She detests morbid people, they're not her kind. But if
she'll give you a talking to it may do you a lot of good."

* * * * *

She did give me a talking to and it did do me a lot of good, although
when I came to think of it I found she had barely talked at all.

She wasn't the sort who liked to talk, she was just as quiet as before.
When she arrived rather late one evening and Sue brought her out on the
verandah into a group of those radical friends who were a committee for
something or other, after the general greetings were over she settled
back in a corner with the air of one who likes just to listen to people,
no matter whether they're fools or not. But as I watched her I decided
she did not consider these people fools. That quiet smile that came on
her face showed a comfortable curiosity and now and then a gleam of
amusement, but no contempt whatever. She seemed a girl so well pleased
with her life that she could be pleased with the world besides and keep
her eyes open for all there was in it. Although she was still rather
small and still demurely feminine, with the same grave sweetness in her
eyes, that same enchanting freshness about everything she wore, she
struck me at once as having changed, as having grown tremendously, as
having somehow filled herself deep with a quiet abundant vitality.
"Where have _you_ been," I wondered.

There came a loud blast from the harbor. At once I saw her turn in her
chair and look down to the point below where a river boat was just
leaving her slip, sweeping silently out of the darkness into the moonlit
water. My curiosity deepened. Where _had_ she been, and what was she
doing, what queer kind of a girl was this? I took a seat beside her.

"Don't you remember me?" I asked. She turned her head with a quiet
smile.

"Of course I do," she answered. Her low voice had a frankly intimate
tone. "I did the moment I saw you. Besides, Sue told me about you."

"She's been telling me quite a lot about _you_."

"Has she? What?"

"That you know all about the harbor these days."

"Sue's wonderful," Eleanore murmured. "She's so sure her friends know
everything."

"Let's stick t