"--the eyes rested upon the
bright face,--"however, possession is nine-tenths of the law. If you say
the word I'll skedaddle!"

"Oh!" panted Janet, "I pray you pardon me!" The sentence sounded
Shakespearean in the gathering confusion. "I only thought--do you not
see? I suppose you are Mr. Devant and I knew you would end--end--"

"What, pray? I'm not uncompromisingly final. I've been known to let
things run on."

"Why, you see, I've been in the habit for years of crawling in your
cellar window, coming up here and--reading your books! I began it when
I was a very little girl; it's come to be a kind of habit."

The man laughed with keen relish.

"You quite flatter me, Miss--Miss--?" he paused.

"Oh! Janet. Janet of the Dunes, you know, Cap'n Billy's Janet. You may
not remember me, but I saw you once, years and years ago. I was at the
Light, David's Light; you came visiting there. I called you Mr.
Government!"

"Miss Janet, do take a seat! Permit me!" He arose and with courtly grace
placed a chair for his companion. "I recall you perfectly. The mistake
you made in my name came to be a joke and byword after I went home. You
saw me snooping around the Light and thought I was the Government,
inspecting Captain David's domain. It all comes to me quite clearly. I
remember, you put your back against a certain closet and intimated in no
doubtful language that it was private property. You were a bewitching
small child, Miss Janet, if you will pardon an old man's freedom of
speech. I am delighted to renew our acquaintance." Janet flushed. "I
presume, counting upon your memory of my inspection of the lighthouse,
you felt free to inspect my house. Are the books to your taste, Miss
Janet?"

"They have been my greatest joy in all these years." A serious tone and
a sudden moisture of the blue eyes touched the man. He spoke in a
sincerer manner, looking more sharply at the glowing face.

"You are a book-lover by nature, I see."

"Yes, I never see a book but I feel as I do when I stand by the sea on a
foggy morning. I can see nothing, but I know that everything lies hidden
in the fog. I wonder what kind of a day lies there, and what the day
bears. So it is with a book, I open the covers,--and the fog slowly
melts away!"

"Yes." A smell of the sea stole into the open window and the man took a
long breath. "You have read wisely, I hope?" he said.

"I began with the pictures. Then I spelled out the words in the books on
the bo