e never cared for Sara in that way."

"Then you have jolly well flirted with her."

"Don't try to be English with your 'jolly wells.'"

Bobbie turned his back on Justin. "I suppose, then, you're not going to
have lunch with me?" he said over his shoulder.

"Why can't we all have lunch with you?"

"Who is--all?"

"Betty, and Mrs. Martens--and me----"

"Doesn't Doris come into it?"

"Of course, if you can get her up."

"I can always get her up. You know that. But there's nobody just now in
the world for you but Betty Dolce."

Nobody but Bettina! Justin admitted it to himself triumphantly. Please
God, there should never be any one but Bettina!

Perhaps something of his thought showed in his face, for Bobbie clapped
him on the shoulder with a hearty, "Go in and win her, old man, and
we'll have a double wedding."

"If my wedding," solemnly, "were as sure as yours, I'd burn incense to
the gods."

"Well, why don't you make it sure?"

"I can't. She stands on her pedestal, and I can't reach up to her."

"Man, you're afraid of her."

"It isn't that. But I'm not in this race to fall out, Bobbie. I guess
you can see that."

Bobbie nodded. "Anybody who has eyes can see it," he said.

The little yacht was in the water now, still helpless because of her
furled sails.

Justin, making a bridge of the small boats tied to the floating pier,
gained dry land, and continued his conversation with Bobbie across the
intervening space. "Suppose we cut the luncheon out, and go for a sail
this afternoon. We can land off Gloucester way and have tea at the
Lobster Pot."

"Tea, meaning lobster sandwiches," said Bobbie. "Do you know, Justin,
that the whole coast is blossoming with lobster sandwiches? Once upon a
time one ate muffins with their tea. But now nobody takes tea. They take
coffee and lobster sandwiches. And I don't like sea foods, and I don't
drink coffee. Otherwise it is all right."

"We'll have muffins and jam. And you and Doris shall have a table by
yourselves, and Bettina and I, and we'll ask Anthony to look after Mrs.
Martens." He stopped. "No, we won't ask Anthony--he has a fashion of
claiming Bettina. He's her guardian, you know."

"Look here, Justin. Did it ever occur to you that he'd like to be
more--than a guardian?"

"It's Diana for Anthony, Bobbie."

"I'm not so sure. Doris says there is something queer about it all----"

"Queer?"

"Oh, about Diana having Bettina here, and then going away and l