o idea how nice they were. You sat just----"

"Oh, that was why the book was on the window-seat, and the other
things----"

"That was why," nodded Francis.

"And the stool close up to the lounge-chair----"

He nodded.

"You lay there and I sat by you on the stool," he said. "And you
whispered the most wonderful things to me----"

"I didn't!" said Marjorie, flushing suddenly. "You know perfectly well
all the time that was going on I--the real Me--was being a filing-clerk
in New York, and running around with Lucille, and being bored with
fussy people in the office, and hunting up letters for employers and
hoping they wouldn't discover how much longer it took me to find them
than it did really intelligent people----"

"No," said Francis, suddenly dejected, "you didn't. But--it was a nice
dream. And I think, considering all that's come and gone, you needn't
begrudge it to me."

"I don't," said Marjorie embarrassedly. "I--I only wish you wouldn't
talk about it, because it partly makes me feel as if my feelings were
hurt, and partly makes me feel terribly self-conscious."

"Then perhaps it _was_ you, a little," said Francis quietly.

Marjorie moved away from him, and went into the kitchen again, with her
head held high to hide the fact that her cheeks were burning. He
hadn't any right to do that to her. Why, any amount of men might be
making desperate love to dream-Marjories--Mr. Logan, for
instance,--only his love-making would probably be exceedingly full of
quotations, and rather slow and involved.

She turned, dimpling over her shoulder at Francis, who had been
standing in rather a dream, where she had left him.

"Francis! Do you suppose any other men are doing that?" she asked
mischievously. "Supposing our good friend Mr. Logan, for instance, has
installed me in a carved renaissance chair in his apartment, and is
saying nice things to me----"

"Marjorie!"

"Well, you see!" said Marjorie. "It isn't a good precedent."

"Well, I'm your husband," muttered Francis quite illogically.

"Oh, this has gone far enough," said Marjorie with determination. And
she went back to the kitchen.

"I'll leave you here, if that's the case," said Francis in a friendly
enough way. "I have to go over to the other cabin and see how things
are and then out to where some work is going on. Can you find
amusement here for awhile?"

"Oh, yes," said Marjorie. She felt a little tired, after all; and a
little desiro