came out at last on a wind-swept
terrace and she gained her first unobstructed view of the ocean.

She had always loved the sea--its wideness, its mystery, its ever
changing face. She watched the sweep of a gull following the crested
windrow of the breakers on a near-by reef, busy with his fishing. All
manner of craft etched their spars and canvas on the horizon, only bluer
than the sea itself. Inshore was a fleet of small fry--catboats, sloops,
dories under sail, and a smart smack or two going around to Provincetown
with cargoes from the fish pounds.

"I shall like it," she murmured after a deeper breath.

They came to the outlying dwellings of Cardhaven; then to the head of
Main Street that descended gently to the wharves and beaches of the inner
harbor. Halfway down the hill, just beyond the First Church and the
post-office, was the rambling, galleried old structure across the face of
which, and high under its eaves, was painted the name "_Cardhaven Inn_."
A pungent, fishy smell swept up the street with the hot breeze. The tide
was out and the flats were bare.

The coach stopped before the post-office, and Louise got out briskly with
her bag. The driver, backing down from his seat, said to her:

"If ye wait till I git out the mail I'll drive ye inter the tavern yard
in style. I bait the horses there."

"Oh, I'll walk," she told him brightly. "I can get dinner there, I
suppose?"

"Warn't they expectin' you at Cap'n Abe's?" the stage driver asked. "I
want to know! Oh, yes. You can buy your dinner at the tavern. But
'tain't a long walk to Cap'n Abe's. Not fur beyond the Mariner's Chapel."

Louise thanked him. A young man was coming down the steps of the
post-office. He was a more than ordinarily good-looking young fellow,
deeply tanned, with a rather humorous twist to his shaven lips, and with
steady blue eyes. He was dressed in quite common clothing: the jersey,
high boots, and sou'wester of a fisherman.

He looked at Louise, but not offensively. He did not remove his hat as
he spoke.

"I heard Noah say you wished to go to Cap'n Abe's store," he observed
with neither an assumption of familiarity nor any bucolic embarrassment.
"I am bound that way myself."

"Thank you!" she said with just enough dignity to warn him to keep his
distance if he chanced to be contemplating anything familiar. "But I
shall dine at the hotel first."

A brighter color flooded into his cheeks and Louise felt that