ill you do
it again?"

At this impudence, she neither got angry nor changed her mind--a bad
sign for Jimmy. She put his hand away, saying, "You must forgive me
the kiss."

Jimmy jumped to his feet with another inarticulate sound, every whit as
bad as an oath, and stood before her.

"Agatha Redmond, will you marry me?"

"No."

Jim turned in his tracks and left the wood.

Two hours later, at supper, Jim was inquired for.

"Our last supper together, and Mr. Hambleton not here!" mourned
Chamberlain.

Agatha felt guilty, but could scarcely confess it. "You are all
invited for next year, you know," she said.

"And we're all coming," announced Melanie. "But poor Mr. Hambleton
will miss his supper tonight."

The "poor Mr. Hambleton" struck Agatha. "I think Mr. Hambleton is
doing very well indeed. I saw him start off for a walk this afternoon."

"Jim's a chump. Give him a cold potato," jeered Aleck.

But after supper was over, and the twilight deepened into darkness,
Agatha sought Aleck where she could speak with him alone.

"I--I think Mr. Hambleton was troubled when he left here this
afternoon," she said. "Can you think where he would be likely to go?
He is not strong enough to bear much hard exercise yet."

Aleck looked at her keenly.

"If he went anywhere, I think he'd go straight to the yacht."

"I feel a little anxious, someway," confessed Agatha.

Chamberlain's voice broke in upon them. "Anybody ready to take me down
to the _Sea Gull_ in the car?"

As Aleck started for the machine, the anxiety in Agatha's face
perceptibly lightened. "And may I go with you?" she asked eagerly.

CHAPTER XXIV

AFTER YOU, MONSIEUR?

Jim had no desire to create a sensation among his friends at the old
red house; but as he left the pine grove all his instincts led him to
flee in another direction. He did not fully realize just what had
happened to him, but he was conscious of having received a very hard
jolt, indeed. The house, full of happy associations as it was, was
just now too tantalizing a place. Aleck had won out, and he and
Melanie were radiating that peculiar kind of lover's joy which shines
on the eve of matrimony. Jim wished them well--none better--but he
also wished they wouldn't make such a fuss over these things. Get it
done and out of the way, and the less said about it the better. In
fact, Jim's buoyant and sunny spirit went into eclipse; he lost his
holiday ardor, and trudged