in her own mind. This was not suffered to appear.

"I thought I was where nobody could find me," she answered.

"Do you think there is such a place in the whole world?" said Tom
gallantly. Meanwhile he scrambled over some inconvenient rocks to a
place by her side. "I am very glad to find you, Miss Lothrop, both
ways,--first at Appledore, and then here."

To this compliment Lois made no reply.

"What has driven you to this little out-of-the-way nook?"

"You mean Appledore?"

"No, no! this very uncomfortable situation among the rocks here? What
drove you to it?"

"You think there is no attraction?"

"I don't see what attraction there is here for you."

"Then you should not have come to Appledore."

"Why not?"

"There is nothing here for you."

"Ah, but! What is there for you? Do you find anything here to like now,
really?"

"I have been down in this 'uncomfortable place' ever since near five
o'clock--except while we were at breakfast."

"What for?"

"What for?" said Lois, laughing. "If you ask, it is no use to tell you,
Mr. Caruthers."

"Ah, be generous!" said Tom. "I'm a stupid fellow, I know; but do try
and help me a little to a sense of the beautiful. _Is_ it the
beautiful, by the way, or is it something else?"

Lois's laugh rang softly out again. She was a country girl, it is true;
but her laugh was as sweet to hear as the ripple of the waters among
the stones. The laugh of anybody tells very much of what he is, making
revelations undreamt of often by the laugher. A harsh croak does not
come from a mind at peace, nor an empty clangour from a heart full of
sensitive happiness; nor a coarse laugh from a person of refined
sensibilities, nor a hard laugh from a tender spirit. Moreover, people
cannot dissemble successfully in laughing; the truth comes out in a
startling manner. Lois's laugh was sweet and musical; it was a pleasure
to hear. And Tom's eyes said so.

"I always knew I was a stupid fellow," he said; "but I never felt
myself so stupid as to-day! What is it, Miss Lothrop?"

"What is what, Mr. Caruthers?--I beg your pardon."

"What is it you find in this queer place?"

"I am afraid it is waste trouble to tell you."

"Good morning!" cried a cheery voice here from below them; and looking
towards the water they saw Mr. Lenox, making his way as best he could
over slippery seaweed and wet rocks.

"Hollo, George!" cried Tom in a different tone--"What are you doing
there?"

"Trying to kee