ay gave her a glimpse of the world through each end of her
opera-glass. The child was a self-contained little person, and betrayed
no special elation over these blandishments. When the time for parting
came, Kenwick, with much ceremony, presented her with a bright piece of
nickel, as a _ricordo_ of the visit. She was something of a beauty, in
her small childish way, and he petitioned for a kiss in return. This the
little maid politely but firmly refused; her favours were evidently not
for sale.

"If you won't give me one," he said, trying not to look abashed at the
rebuff, "go and kiss the lady you love best."

They were all standing about in the bright sunshine, deriving no little
entertainment from Kenwick's discomfiture. The child took the
proposition very seriously; but, after a moment's deliberation, she
walked straight up to Pauline and lifted a small, pursed-up mouth to
her.

"If that's not just Pauline's luck!" May exclaimed, as her sister
stooped to receive the proffered salutation. "And she is the only one of
us all who hasn't paid the little wretch the slightest attention!"

"Oh, yes, she has," Geof protested, in perfect good faith. "She has been
smiling at her!" Upon which everybody laughed, and no one more heartily
than Geof, at the way his remark had turned out.

Kenwick's merriment, however, was not quite sincere. A vague mistrust
had crept over him and was working within him, subtly and surely, as the
afternoon wore on. Had he been mistaken about Geof? The thought was too
distasteful to be seriously entertained, and he rejected it summarily.
Yet it had not been without effect. His vanity had taken alarm, and the
instinct of self-preservation was roused in his mind.

Yes, he thought to himself, half-an-hour later, as they sailed before a
light wind under the gay Chioggia canvas, out toward the open sea,--yes,
he had been venturing upon deep waters, and it was time to come about.
It was, of course, sheer nonsense to suppose that Geof's taking May's
defection so easily was an indication of any real indifference on his
part. He was only too plaguey sure of himself to feel any anxiety. Geof
had always had an irritating way of taking things for granted; but, when
it came to the point, no one with eyes in his head could be really
indifferent to that superb young creature. Kenwick glanced at the
slender figure perched at the extreme prow of the boat, and straightway
he experienced an awkward wrench somewhe