caught on
the rebound like that."

Donald was the first to make an effort to introduce a new subject into
the thoughts of all, by saying, "Doesn't the _Water Witch_ look pretty
in this light?" as he pointed to a trim little eighteen-foot race-about,
whose highly polished mahogany sides, free from paint, reflected the
water which reflected them. "I don't know as I have properly thanked you
for having her put in commission for me, Ethel."

"I thought that it would please you, and I had them overhaul and rig her
as soon as I learned that you were coming home."

"Please me! Well, I should say 'vraiment.' Come, Smiles, let's run away
from all the world beside, and I'll show you my skill as a skipper."

Ethel sent a meaning glance in the direction of her father, but he was
laughing; "'Skill as a skipper,' indeed, on such an evening as this! He
would be an amateur, for certain, who couldn't steer with one arm free.
Whew, there isn't a breath."

"There is going to be, and not many minutes from now. Unless I miss my
guess we'll have a thunderstorm, and a west wind which will make short
work of this humidity. There, feel that breeze? Ouch, you little devil,
get off my foot. It may be large but it wasn't built for a kiddie-car
racetrack."

The obstacle had caused an upset, and baby Don, more angry than hurt, to
be sure, set up a howl and ran to Smiles' arms for comfort.

"You'll spoil that baby," growled his uncle. "Well, what do you say, are
you coming?"

He stood up, and stretched his powerful frame in anticipation of the
exercise that he loved.

"If you don't mind, Donald, I'd ... I'd rather not ... to-night,"
answered Rose.

"I'm afraid that you don't like the ocean; I rather thought that you
wouldn't," he responded gently, for he had in mind the fact that both of
her parents had met their death by drowning. The girl sat silently for a
little while, with her eyes fixed upon the waters, here and there upon
the surface of which had begun to appear shadowy streaks of varying
tones, as though the Master Painter were deftly sweeping a mighty,
invisible brush across the pictured surface. Interblending shades of
soft green, gray and violet came and disappeared.

Without turning her head, she answered, pensively, "It is very, very
beautiful and I love it--in a way. But I am afraid of it, too. Yes, I
like the lordly mountains better, Don. To me there is always something
sinister about the sea, even when it is in as peace