ck."

"Why should I not? Jack understands how to manage a boat. Marion is safe
with her brother."

"But he is not her brother," cried St. John.

"Not in blood, perhaps, but in affection. They have been brought up
together as children of one family."

"My dear Aunt Alice, do you think you have done wisely in encouraging
this intimacy?" he said earnestly.

"What can you mean?" she demanded. "Jack is fourteen years old and
Marion is eighteen."

"Of course. But you know nothing of the boy's parentage. He is an
unknown waif, cast upon the shore in his infancy, very possibly of a low
family."

"No, you are wrong there. Remember, I saw his mother. Everything
indicated her to be a lady. The child's clothing was of fine texture.
But even if it were otherwise, he has endeared himself to me by his
noble qualities. I regard him as a son."

St. John shrugged his shoulders. "You look upon him with the eyes of
affection. To me he seems----"

"Well?"

"A commonplace boy,--a mechanic's child, very possibly,--who is quite
out of place among the Ruthvens."

At this Mrs. Ruthven grew indignant.

"You are prejudiced!" she cried. "I will not discuss the matter farther
with you. I wish no one to speak to me against Jack. He is as dear to me
as Marion herself."

The young man drew a deep breath. "I am silenced, Aunt Alice. But I wish
to speak to you about Marion. She is no longer a child, but a young
lady."

"Yes, she is now eighteen," answered Mrs. Ruthven slowly. "But to me she
seems a child still."

"Well--er--at what age did you marry, aunt?"

"At eighteen."

"Then, Aunt Alice, you cannot be surprised if I have thought of Marion
as my future wife. I love her warmly and sincerely."

At this abrupt declaration Mrs. Ruthven was considerably surprised.

"Why, St. John, do you wish to marry that child?" she exclaimed.

"Why not? She is eighteen."

"Yes, but I had never thought of her as old enough to be married. Have
you spoken to her?"

"Yes," he returned slowly, and with a cloud on his face.

"And what did she say?"

"Nothing--that is, she was taken by surprise and did not wish to discuss
the matter at present."

Mrs. Ruthven drew a breath of relief. "She was sensible. Have you any
reason to think that she loves you?"

"I think she will soon. I am not conceited, Aunt Alice, but I think I
have a good appearance and--I am a Ruthven."

"You are much older than she, St. John."

"I am, but a man of my age is