dy, "and a fine-looking one too,
as Dr. Cricket will testify, for on my soul I think the old duffer
wants to marry her."

"I wish he would, and rid the world of an officious old maid."

"'Old maid' is an opprobrious term. Miss Standist is a well-preserved
single woman."

"Hold there, Brady! She is really not sugary enough for a preserve; I
should say rather well canned. But never mind, I can forgive her some
acidity toward myself, in consideration of her sweetness to Nora
Costello. She has really been good to that girl."

"Who could help it!" exclaimed Brady, unguardedly. Then he cleared his
throat with a nervous little cough, and began again with would-be
unconcern: "By the way, I don't know whether I told you, that the day
after you left Nepaug, Jimmy Anstice picked up a gold brooch on the
beach, just where you came ashore after the wreck. It was a homely,
old-fashioned thing, with a gold-stone centre big enough for a
tombstone; but Jim brought it to me with all the pride of a
discoverer. I turned it over, and on the back I saw engraved in the
gold, 'To Nora from her Mother, on her birthday, November tenth,' Of
course I knew in an instant that it belonged to Nora Costello. Then it
came to me how the girl spent most of the day while she was at Nepaug
wandering up and down on the beach. Of course she was looking for her
brooch; but she was afraid, if she said anything, it would look like
accusing somebody; and besides, very likely with her queer ideas she
felt that she ought not to have kept any piece of jewelry, even if it
was her mother's."

"You seem to have studied her feelings rather closely."

"Why, of course, when one meets a pretty girl like that--and really
you know she is the prettiest I ever saw--"

"How long is it since you said the same of Miss Anstice?"

"Ah! that was before I met Nora Costello. 'Time's noblest offspring is
his last.' But if you will keep still and listen, instead of
interrupting all the time, you will hear something about the little
plot which Miss Anstice and Cousin Susan and I have laid among us."

"Well--"

"I should say it was well. Just you wait and see. Cousin Susan is to
write to Nora."

"Nora?" commented Flint, with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, Nora," repeated Brady, somewhat defiantly. "If I said Captain
Costello you would not know whether I was talking of her or her
brother."

"Oh, yes, I should," said Flint, "for you never talk of him at all;
but never mind that--g