summertime," said Lance; "when the sun is
hot and the air full of dust, and no trees give shade, and the grass
seems burned, I long for the sea. Love of water seems almost mania with
me, from the deep blue ocean, with its foaming billows, to the smallest
pool hidden in a wood. It is strange, Frances, with your beauty-loving
soul, that you dislike the sea."

She had gathered a spray of the beautiful lilac and held it to her lips.
Was it the shade of the flower, or did the color leave her face? If so,
it was the first time I had seen it change.

"Do you really dislike the sea, Mrs. Fleming?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied, laconically.

"Why?" I asked again.

"I cannot tell," she answered. "It must be on the old principle--

"'I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,
The reason why--I cannot tell!
But only this I know full well,
I do not like thee, Doctor Fell!'"

"Those lines hardly apply to the sea," I said. "I thought love for the
sea was inborn with every man and woman in England."

"It is not with me," she said.

She spoke quite gently. There was not the least hurry or confusion, but
I was quite sure the color had faded from her face. Was it possible that
I had found a hole the strong armor at last?

Lance turned a laughing face to me.

"My wife is as strong in her dislikes as in her likes," he said. "She
never will go to the sea. Last year I spent a whole month in trying to
persuade her; this year I have begun in good time, and I intend to give
it three months' good trial, but I am afraid it will be quite in vain."

"Why do you dislike the sea?" I repeated. "You must have a reason."

"I think," she replied, "it makes me melancholy and low spirited."

"Well it might!" I thought, for the rush and fall of the waves must be
like a vast requiem to her.

"That is not the effect the sea has upon most people," I said.

"No, I suppose not; it has upon me," she answered. Then smiling at me as
she went on: "You seem to think it is my fault, Mr. Ford, that I do not
love the sea."

"It is your misfortune," I replied, and our eyes met.

I meant nothing by the words, but a shifting, curious look came into her
face, and for the first time since I had been there her eyes fell before
mine.

"I suppose it is," she said, quietly; but from the moment we were never
quite the same again. She watched me curiously, and I knew it.

"Like or dislike, Frances, give way this time," said Lance, "and John
will go