her side of the street. It might perhaps be
embarrassing if he met Becky while she was with her grandfather. He
wanted to see her alone. With no one to interfere, he would be, he was
sure, master of the situation.

He passed the house. The windows were open, and the white curtains
blew out. But there was no one in sight. At the next corner, he
accosted a tall man in work clothes, with bronzed skin and fair hair.

"Can you tell me," George asked, "whether Admiral Meredith lives in
that cottage--'The Whistling Sally'?"

"Yes. But he isn't there. He's gone to Boston."

George was conscious of a sense of shock.

"Boston?"

"Yes. He wasn't very well and he wanted to see his doctor."

"Has his--granddaughter gone with him?"

"Miss Becky? Yes."

"But--the windows of the house are open----"

"I open them every morning. The housekeeper is in Nantucket. But they
are all coming back at the end of the week."

"Coming back?" eagerly; "the Admiral, and Miss Bannister?"

"Yes."

George drew a long breath. He walked back with Tristram to the low
gray house. "Queer little place," he said.

Tristram eyed him with easy tolerance. "Of course it seems queer if
you aren't used to it----"

"I thought the Admiral had money."

"Well, he has. But he forgets it out here----"

"Is there a good hotel?"

"Yes. It is usually closed by now. But they are keeping it open for
some guests who are up for the hunting."

The hotel was a pleasant rambling structure, and overlooked the sea.
George engaged a room for Saturday--and said that his man would bring
his bags. He would have his lunch and take the afternoon 'bus back to
Nantucket.

As he waited for the dining-room doors to open, a girl wrapped in a
yellow cape crossed the porch and descended the steps which led to the
beach. She wore a yellow bathing cap and yellow shoes. George walked
to the top of the bluff and watched her. She threw off the cape, and
stood slim end striking for a moment before she dived into the sea.
She swam splendidly. It was very cold, and George wondered how she
endured it. When she came running back up the steps and across the
porch, she was wrapped in the cape. She was rather handsome in a queer
dark way. "It was cold," she said, as she passed George.

He took a step forward. "You were brave----"

She stopped and shrugged her shoulders. "One gets warm," she said, "in
a moment."

She left him, and he went in to lunch.