e situation,
blissful ignorance, since he could not guess what developments it might
lead to for him, and for the Chaperon whom he had provided at such cost.

"If anything happens, I shall have to help him through it somehow," I
decided, "as it's more than half my fault, registering 'Lorelei' in my
name. Besides, I can't let the party be broken up, until I've had a fair
chance to raise Brederode stock in the market."

To know that at any moment Sir Alec MacNairne might pounce upon us,
denounce the Chaperon as a fraud, disgust the girls with Starr, and put
a sudden end to the adventure as far as the two men in it were
concerned, was not conducive to appetite. I forgot whether I had just
begun my breakfast, or just finished it, but in either case it
interested me no more than eggs and toast would have interested Damocles
at the moment of discovering the sword.

"The principal thing is not to let the girls see the _Herald_," said
Starr.

I wished it were the principal thing; still, I said nothing, and getting
up, we went into the hall.

"Miss Van Buren would think it cool of you, perhaps, if she knew you'd
registered her boat in your name," said Starr, taking up the subject
again. "She wouldn't understand----"

"_What_ would Miss Van Buren think cool?" asked Miss Van Buren's voice
behind us, and the Mariner started as if we were conspirators.

"Oh, nothing particular," he answered limply.

"Please tell me."

"I'll tell you," I said, with a sudden determination that she should
know the worst, and do her worst, and be conquered by something stronger
than her prejudice. The tug-of-war was coming between us now, that
tug-of-war I had been expecting and almost desiring.

"I registered your boat in my name," I said calmly, "and Starr thinks
you wouldn't understand."

She threw up her head, flushing. "I _don't_ understand."

"It gives us the right to use the flag of my club."

"We could have got on without it."

"Often with grave inconvenience."

"I would have risked that."

"Forgive me, but amateurs are always ready to take risks."

(At this moment I became aware that Starr had slipped away.)

"Isn't it rather late," she flashed at me, "to ask my forgiveness
for--_anything_?"

"It was a mere civility," I answered with equal insolence. "I've done
nothing for which I've felt the need of your forgiveness, Miss Van
Buren; but if you think I have, pray tell me once for all what it was,
that I may defend mysel