me in her
life and the more fortunate girl instantly resolved to give her one.
Taking Elsa's other hand in both of hers, she exclaimed:

"Come along with Jim and me and pick out the little stateroom you'll
have for your own when we start on our cruise--next Monday morning!
You'll be my guest, won't you? The first one invited."

Elsa's large eyes were lifted in amazed delight; then as quickly
dropped, while a fit of violent trembling shook her slight frame. She
was so agitated that her equally astonished father put his arm about
her to support her, and the look he gave Dorothy was very keen as he
said:

"Elsa has always lived alone. She isn't used to the jests of other
girls, Miss Calvert."

"Isn't she? But I wasn't jesting. My aunt has given me permission to
choose my own guests and I choose Elsa, first, if she will come. Will
you, dear?" and again Dolly gave the hand she held an affectionate
squeeze. "Come and help us make our little cruise a perfectly
delightful one."

Once more the great, dark eyes looked into Dorothy's brown ones and
Elsa answered softly: "Ye-es, I'll come. If--if you begin like
this--with a poor girl like me--it should be called 'The Cruise of
Loving Kindness.' I guess--I know--God sent you."

Neither Dorothy nor Jim could find anything to say. It was evident
that this stranger was different from any of their old companions, and
it scarcely needed the father's explanation to convince them that
"Elsa is a deeply religious dreamer." Jim hoped that she wouldn't
prove a "wet blanket" and was provoked with Dorothy's impulsive
invitation; deciding to warn her against any more such as soon as he
could get her alone.

Already the lad was feeling as if he, too, were proprietor of this
wonderful Water Lily, and carried himself with a masterful air which
made Dolly smile, as he now stepped across the little deck into the
main cabin.

It was funny, too, to see the "How-dare-you" sort of expression with
which he regarded the "impudent" company of youngsters that filled the
place, and he was again annoyed by the graciousness with which "Doll"
advanced to meet them. In her place--hello! what was that she was
saying?

"Very happy to meet you, Miss Blank--if I am right in the name."

A tall girl, somewhat resembling Helena Montaigne, though with less
refinement of appearance, had risen as Dorothy moved forward and stood
defiantly awaiting what might happen. Her face turned as pink as her
rose-trimmed