riousness that sat well upon him. "I am going to row you
over to Chapel Point. I have the oars--I will be master this once, at
least."

For an instant her eyes flashed defiant protest, then drooped before
his. A sudden, hot blush crimsoned her pale face. His will had
mastered hers; the girl trembled from head to foot, and the proud,
sensitive, mouth quivered.

Into the face of the man watching her breathlessly flashed a
triumphant, passionate joy. He put out his hand and gently pushed her
down into the seat. Sitting opposite, he took up the oars and pulled
out over the sheet of sparkling blue water, through which at first the
bottom of white sand glimmered wavily but afterwards deepened to
translucent, dim depths of greenness.

His heart throbbed tumultuously. Once the thought of Marian drifted
across his mind like a chill breath of wind, but it was forgotten when
his eyes met Magdalen's.

"Tell me about yourself, Magdalen," he said at last, breaking the
tremulous, charmed, sparkling silence.

"There is nothing to tell," she answered with characteristic
straightforwardness. "My life has been a very uneventful one. I have
never been rich, or very well educated, but--it used to be different
from now. I had some chance before--before Father died."

"You must have found it very lonely and strange when you came here
first."

"Yes. At first I thought I should die--but I do not mind it now. I
have made friends with the sea; it has taught me a great deal. There
is a kind of inspiration in the sea. When one listens to its
never-ceasing murmur afar out there, always sounding at midnight and
midday, one's soul goes out to meet Eternity. Sometimes it gives me so
much pleasure that it is almost pain."

She stopped abruptly.

"I don't know why I am talking to you like this."

"You are a strange girl, Magdalen. Have you no other companion than
the sea?"

"No. Why should I wish to have? I shall not be here long."

Elliott's face contracted with a spasm of pain.

"You are not going away, Magdalen?"

"Yes--in the fall. I have my own living to earn, you know. I am very
poor. Uncle and Aunt are very kind, but I cannot consent to burden
them any longer than I can help."

A sigh that was almost a moan broke from Esterbrook Elliott's lips.

"You must not go away, Magdalen. You must stay here--with me!"

"You forget yourself," she said proudly. "How dare you speak to me so?
Have you forgotten Miss Lesley? Or are you a tr