e'll be
inconveniences. You'll find you'll want somebody besides me to talk to
and look after. But then perhaps you'll have somebody!"

"Who?" asked Jenny, unsuspiciously. "Not Pa, I'm sure."

Keith held her away from him, and looked into her eyes. Then he crushed
her against him, laughing. It took Jenny quite a minute to understand
what he meant.

"Very dull, aren't you!" cried Keith. "Can't see beyond the end of your
nose."

"I shouldn't think it was hardly the sort of place for babies," Jenny
sighed. "From what you say."

v

Keith roared with laughter, so that the _Minerva_ seemed to shake in
sympathy with his mirth.

"You're priceless!" he said. "My bonny Jenny. I shouldn't think there
was ever anybody like you in the world!"

"Lots of girls," Jenny reluctantly suggested, shaking a dolorous head at
the ghost of a faded vanity. "I'm afraid." She revived even as she
spoke; and encouragingly added: "Perhaps not exactly like."

"I don't believe it! You're unique. The one and only Jenny Redington!"

"Red--!" Jenny's colour flamed. "Sounds nice," she said; and was then
silent.

"When we're married," went on Keith, watching her; "where shall we go
for our honeymoon? I say!... how would you like it if I borrowed the
yacht from Templecombe and ran you off somewhere in it? I expect he'd
let me have the old _Minerva._ Not a bad idea, eh what!"

"_When_ we're married," Jenny said breathlessly, very pale.

"What d'you mean?" Keith's eyes were so close to her own that she was
forced to lower her lids. "When I come back from this trip. Templecombe
says three months. It may be less."

"It may be more." Jenny had hardly the will to murmur her warning--her
distrust.

"Very unlikely; unless the weather's bad. I'm reckoning on a mild
winter. If it's cold and stormy then of course yachting's out of the
question. But we'll be back before the winter, any way. And
then--darling Jenny--we'll be married as soon as I can get the licence.
There's something for you to look forward to, my sweet. Will you like to
look forward to it?"

Jenny could feel his breath upon her face; but she could not move or
speak. Her breast was rising to quickened breathing; her eyes were
burning; her mouth was dry. When she moistened her lips she seemed to
hear a cracking in her mouth. It was as though fever were upon her, so
moved was she by the expression in Keith's eyes. She was neither happy
nor unhappy; but she was watching his face as i