acted more than rickey-drinkers. Good men might here
read their dearest dreams come true; had so read them. The fact deserves
capitals, being enormously important. With one half the world only, as
all know, is character destiny: the rest is bent and twisted, glorified
or smashed, by Physiognomy, the great potter.

And this girl's destiny was obviously magnificent. Experience had long
since convinced her, personally, of that. Hoarse testimonials from the
pursuing sex she had had in superabundance from her fifteenth year. Yet,
while these were duly valued as indicating the strong demand, she had
waited, stanch to her destiny. Were not Alexandrine sighs her right? One
so endowed could hardly be asked to rest content with the youth of the
vicinage....

The cottage row was now well astern; the long string of empty bathhouses
slid by, water foamed under the swelling sail. Gliding with the bark,
dreamy retrospect met and joined hands with solider prospect. Carlisle
threw round a measuring eye, and perceived that she had covered more
distance than she had thought; had passed the limits of the board-walk
and the beach, which was quite far enough, considering. She luffed
cleverly, having a splendid blowy time of it, and put about. This done,
she permitted herself to glance for the second time over the purview.

No cloud of smoke stood upon the horizon stationward, no human being
appeared within such view of the strand as the cottages and bath-houses
left to her. The train, evidently, was late. Well, as far as that went,
there was no special hurry about getting back to the hotel. Mamma could
only scold a little, as usual.

Carlisle smiled to herself, rather tickled by the thought of the
brilliant march she and mamma had stolen upon the world. In five
minutes, under stiff Mr. Payne's eye at that, she had indubitably
interested Mr. Canning. And now, thanks chiefly to Willie Kerr's loyal
enterprise, ...

Her returning eye fell upon a bobbing object in the water, very near
her, and her heart missed a beat. Her lips moved soundlessly. _Jack
Dalhousie!_...

The bobbing object, in fact, was the head of a man of the sea; a
youthful swimmer who had come up on her unseen--behind her till she had
put about. The lad was swimming rapidly, though with a curious waste of
motive power, and was so close that Miss Heth seemed to herself to be
staring full into his face. His course was laid dead across her bows;
for other reasons, too, his pi