omely and frowsy, and dowdy and horrid and a perfect mess. Am
I a mess? Say--"

"_No!_" The rebel in the Tyro broke bonds. "You're the loveliest and
most adorable and sweetest thing on this earth, and I love you."

"I--I think you might have said it before," said Little Miss Grouch in a
very wee voice.

"I'd no business to say it at all. But I simply couldn't go without--"

"Go?" she cried, startled. "Where?"

"Away. It doesn't matter where."

"Away from me?"

"Yes."

She faced him with leveled eyes, tearless now, and infinitely pleading.

"You couldn't do that," she said.

"I must."

"After--after last night, on deck? And--and now--what you've just said?"

"I can't help it, dear," he said miserably. "I've been talking with your
father."

"Is it--is it our money?"

"Yes."

"Are you a coward?" she flashed. "Afraid of what people would say?"

"Afraid of what you yourself would feel when you found yourself missing
the things you've been used to so long."

"What do I care for those things? It's just a sort of snobbery in you.
Oh, I'd have married you when I thought your name was Daddleskink!" she
cried, with flaming face. "And now because we're different from what you
thought, you--you--"

"You're not making it very easy for me, dear," he said piteously.

There came into her face, like an inspiration, a radiance of the
tenderest fun. She put her hands one on each of his shoulders, and with
a little soft catch in her voice, sang:--

"Lady once loved a pig.
'Honey,' said she,
'Pig, will you marry me?'--

"_You_ grunt!" she bade him.

He strove to turn his face away.

"Grunt," she besought. "Grunt, Pig; Perfect Pig! Grunt now or forever
hold your peace."

Then the clinging hands slipped forward, the soft arms closed about his
neck, and she was sobbing with her cheek pressed close to his cheek.

"I won't _let_ you go. I won't! Never, never, never!"

"But I don't know what I'm to say to your father, darling," he said, as
the grinding of the tender against the wharf brought them back to
realities.

"Leave him to me," she bade him. "I'm going to send for him and Judge
Enderby now."

The two appeared promptly.

"Dad," she said, "you remember what you said about the house on Battery
Place?"

"I think I do."

"That you'd get it for me if you had to buy off the option for a
million?"

"Correct."

"And you're still Wayne of his Word?"

"Try me."

"Give your check to Mr. Sm