ed in Rita's eyes and she did not finish.

I let her pent-up emotion have free run for a while; probably because I
was ill at ease and knew I should look an idiot and talk like an
imbecile if I tried to console her, although I recalled having heard
somewhere that it is generally best to let a woman have her cry out
once she gets started.

At last Rita wiped her eyes and looked over at me.

"Guess you think me a baby,--guess I am, too," she said. "Never cried
before that I have mind. Never had anybody to cry to."

I smiled. And Rita smiled,--a moist and trembling sort of smile in
return.

"Joe Clark has been taking me, same as he takes most things, too much
for granted. Thinks I don't know nothing, because I'm up here at the
Crescent and not been educated any more'n grandmother and grand-dad
could teach me. But I've got feelings and I ain't going to have
anything more to do with him. Well,--not till he knows how to treat
me, same as I should be treated. Guess not then either. I don't care
now. I might not want him later,--might hate him. I believe I shall,
too."

There was nothing of the soft, weepy baby about this young lady, and I
could see from the flash in her dark eyes and the set of her mouth that
she meant every word of what she said.

She was a dainty, pretty, and alluring little piece of femininity; and
I could have taken her in my arms and hugged her, only I did not dare,
for like as not she would have boxed my ears. All I could say was:

"Good for you, little girl. That's the way to talk."

She smiled, and in little more than no time at all she was back into
her merry mood.

We chatted and laughed together at the window until the dusk had crept
into darkness and Rita's Isle had become merely a heavy shadow among
the mists.

"I got to be getting back," she said at last. "Can you fix up my
groceries for me, if you please?"

I went into the store and packed together the few humble necessities
which had been Rita's excuse for coming over, although, I discovered
later, that Rita was pretty much of a free agent and did not require an
excuse to satisfy either her grandmother or her grandfather, both of
whom trusted her implicitly.

Time went past quickly in there.

"Rita, it is almost dark. Will you let me accompany you across the
Bay? I can fix a tow line behind for your little boat."

"That would be nice," she answered simply. "But I can see in the dark
near as well as in the day