girl, and thinks her so altogether perfect and
beyond cavil, that he lets everything go. She needs to have some one
stronger than herself come into her life. I wonder if he ever will.

It took Jimmy Anstice a long while to find that cloak. When he
returned with it, he was still sulky.

"I don't see why I should have to go on Fred's errands, when she
spoiled my fire-works."

"Ah!" said Flint, "it was a pity about those fire-works. Suppose you
bring them down to the inn to-morrow night, and we will set them off
there."

Jimmy brightened up; but his sister rather resented the suggestion.
"You need not be afraid to do it here," she said; "I promise not to
interfere again."

Mr. Flint ought to have said something civil; but he only turned to
Jimmy and proposed that they go out and gather up the rockets before
the dampness spoiled the powder.

"Here, are you going without the cloak after all?"

"Oh, thank you!" answered Flint, with sufficient graciousness, as he
took it from Professor Anstice's hand.

To reach the door, he passed near Winifred's chair. As he did so he
bent over and spoke to her. I could not hear what he said; but I saw
an angry color come into her cheeks, and she answered:--

"Yes, as you say, we seem fated to bring each other ill luck. Let us
hope we shall not meet often."

I never heard Winifred make so rude a speech before. But, to my
surprise, it seemed to develop an unsuspected amiability in Mr. Flint.

"That might be the worst luck of all," he answered, still in that
provoking half-tone of his, and, waiting no answer, he followed Jimmy
out of doors. It seemed to me that Philip Brady would have liked to
take advantage of the general stir to get in a word with Winifred; but
I saw that the girl was really suffering with the burn on her arm, so
I told him, without ceremony, that it was time he went home.

Dr. Cricket, who seems to feel personally responsible for these young
men, evidently thought my behavior ungracious and inhospitable. To
make amends, he followed Philip to the door, and called out after him
and Mr. Flint:--

"Oh, by the way, we're going up to Flying Point for a clam-bake some
evening this week. Would you care to go too?"

"By all means, if you will be good enough to take us into the party,"
Philip answered heartily. If his friend said anything, it was lost in
the fog which was rolling in thick from the ocean.

I never take prejudices; but I often have an instinct about