d never turned around to answer her. "Speak ahead," he answered
roughly. "I'm not deaf. I can hear what you've got to say to me in here
all right."

Madge colored angrily. A sound temper had never been her strong point.
She had almost forgotten how angry she could be in the two peaceful
weeks she had spent with Phil. The hot blood surged to her cheeks at
David's rude behavior. The boy had gone on raking the hay into one
corner of the barn.

"I certainly shall not speak to you if you can't treat me courteously,"
she answered coldly. She took the little girls by the hands and walked
quietly away from the barn. The babies protested. Their black eyes were
wide with interest at the sight of "the big boy." They wished to stay
and talk to him.

David put his hand to his throat when Madge was out of sight. He felt as
though he were choking, and he knew it was from shame at his own uncivil
behavior to the girl who had treated him in such a friendly, gentle
fashion. David Brewster was a queer combination. He was enough of a
gentleman to know he had treated Madge discourteously, but he did not
know how to apologize to her. He glanced around the yard.

Madge had taken the twins and was seated with them under a big apple
tree in the back yard. She was making them daisy and clover chains, and
she seemed completely to have forgotten the rude boy.

David walked up behind the tree. If Madge saw or heard him, she gave no
sign. She was putting a tiny wreath of daisies on Daisy Alden's head and
crowning Dot with a wreath of clover.

"Miss," said a boy's embarrassed voice, "I know I was rude to you out in
the barn. I am sorry. I was worried about something and it put me in a
bad temper. Do you feel that you would be willing to speak to me now?"
he asked humbly.

Madge's face cleared. Yet she hesitated. She was beginning to fear that
she would be unwise to mention Tom's proposition to David. She knew that
Tom Curtis, with his frank, open nature, would have little use for an
ugly-tempered, surly youth on board his motor boat. Had she any right to
burden Tom with a disagreeable helper?

But David seemed so miserable, so shy and awkward, that Madge's heart
softened. Again she felt sorry for the boy, as she had done at her
first meeting with him. Whether for good or evil, she made up her mind
that David should accompany them on their houseboat excursion.

"Sit down, won't you, David?" she asked gently.

David sat down shyly, with his