claimed. "I was blinded by the
sunlight and I didn't see you--really I did not!"

"I had no business being in the way," I laughed, noting first her
glowing color, her violet eyes--amazingly fine eyes they were--her fair
hair with its golden glint, her plain black gown with lawn collar and
wristbands. It was her age, however, that roused me to instant
speculation. Twenty-five, I decided, was a maximum; more likely she was
not more than twenty-two, and if I had been told that eighteen was the
total of her years I shouldn't have had the heart to dispute it.

"Bob Singleton," I said and stupidly added, "and you are Mrs. Bashford?"
unable for the life of me to avoid turning the statement into an
inquiry.

"I am your aunt Alice," she said with a smile, putting out her hand.
"Down, Rex!" she commanded the dancing terrier; "lie down; school's over
now"; whereupon Rex obediently sprawled in the sand and began trying to
swallow the ball.

"Wasn't that silly of me to try to kill you the first time we met!" Her
eyes danced with merriment. "I didn't know, of course, that any one was
about. But you made a very nice catch of it! I had expected to receive
you most formally in the drawing-room, but this really serves very well.
That tree down yonder is inviting; suppose we stay out here and talk a
bit."

This struck me as the pleasantest thing imaginable, though I was still
dazed and my tongue seemed to have died in my mouth. This girl, this
wholly charming and delightful young woman, was the monstrous being I
had conjectured as the globe-trotting widow who had kidnapped and
married my uncle! Not only had she married my uncle Bash and in due
course buried him; she had been a widow when she married him! I
furtively studied her face--a face that invited scrutiny--and her candid
eyes that met my gaze of wonder and frank admiration easily and without
a trace of self-consciousness. On the third finger of her left hand was
a slender band of gold. The thing was staggering, bewildering. She was
clearly anxious to be friendly, but nothing that I had thought of saying
to her fitted the situation.

"In the first place," I finally began, "I must apologize most humbly for
the earnest efforts of the servants to murder you last night. Mr.
Torrence had promised to let me know when you would reach here, but he
must have forgotten it. I had motored to a friend's house to dine and
didn't get back until the mischief was done. I'm very sorry. You mus