ng more mischief than you have the smallest notion of."

There was that in his manner which roused the instinct of opposition in
Merefleet.

"You will either tell me what you mean," he said, "or you need not expect
to gain your point. Veiled hints, like anonymous letters, do not deserve
any man's serious consideration."

Seton muttered something inaudible and became silent.

Merefleet waited for some moments and then began to move off. But the
younger man instantly turned and detained him with an imperative hand.

"What I mean is this," he said, and the starlight on his face showed it
to be very determined. "My cousin is not in a position to receive any
man's attentions. She is not free. I have tried to persuade myself into
thinking you want nothing but ordinary friendship. I should infinitely
prefer to think that if you can assure me that I am justified in so
doing."

"What is it to you?" said Merefleet.

"To me personally it is more a matter of family honour than anything
else. Moreover I am her sole protector, and as such I am bound to assert
a certain amount of authority."

"So you may," said Merefleet quietly. "But I do not see that that
involves my departure."

Seton struck the balustrade of the terrace with an impatient hand. "Can't
you understand?" he said rather thickly. "How else can I put it?"

"I have no desire to pry into your affairs, Heaven knows," Merefleet
said, "but this I will say. If I can be of use to either of you in
helping to dispose of what appears to be a somewhat awkward predicament
you may rely upon me with absolute safety."

"Thanks!" Seton turned slowly and held out his hand. "There is only one
thing you can do," he said, with an awkward laugh. "And that is precisely
what you are not prepared to do. All right. I suppose it's human nature.
I am obliged to you all the same. Good-night!"

CHAPTER X

"Say, Big Bear! Will you take me on the water?"

Merefleet, lounging on the shingle with a pipe and newspaper, looked up
with a start and hastened to knock out the half-burnt tobacco on the heel
of his boot.

His American friend stood above him, clad in the white linen costume she
always wore for boating. She looked very enchanting and very childlike.
Merefleet who had seen her last sobbing bitterly in her cousin's arms,
stared up at her with wonder and relief on his face.

She nodded to him. Her eyes were marvellously bright, but he did not
ascribe their brilliance to r