ng stories about the treasures of the sea." Madge ceased
speaking. She could tell from her friend's slightly bored expression that
Mrs. Curtis was not interested in the story of a common sailor.

"Yes, Madge, I know about all that," Mrs. Curtis returned a little
coldly. "What I meant is that I fear you girls are not enjoying the
social life of Cape May, which is what I looked forward to for you. I do
wish, dear, that you cared more for society and less for such people as
this old sailor and a tenement child like Tania. I doubt if this man is a
fit associate for you."

Madge's blue eyes darkened. She thought of the splendid old sailor, with
his great strength and gentle manners, his knowledge of the world and his
fine simplicity, and of queer, loving little Tania, but she wisely held
her peace. "I am sorry, too, that I don't like society more if you wish
it," she replied sweetly. "I do like the society of clever, agreeable
people, but not--I like Ethel Swann and her friends immensely," she
ended. "And, please, don't say anything against my old pearl diver, Mrs.
Curtis, until you see him. I am sure that you and Tom will think that he
is splendid."

Mrs. Curtis looked searchingly at Madge, and Madge returned her gaze
without lowering her eyes. Mrs. Curtis's face softened. She found it hard
to scold her favorite, but she had been very much vexed at the story that
Philip Holt had repeated to her of Madge's escapades at Cape May, and how
she accused Roy Dennis of cowardice when he had taken her and her friends
on his boat after Madge's and Phil's own heedlessness had caused their
skiff to be overturned. Somehow, the tale of the throwing of the ball on
board Roy Dennis's yacht and of frightening Mabel Farrar had also gone
abroad in Cape May. Lillian had confided the anecdote to Ethel Swann
under promise of the greatest secrecy. The story had seemed to Ethel too
ridiculous to keep to herself, so she had repeated it to another friend,
after demanding the same promise that Lillian had exacted from her. And
so the story had traveled and grown until it was a very mischievous tale
that Philip Holt had recounted to Mrs. Curtis, taking care that Tom
Curtis was not about when he told it.

Mrs. Curtis thought Madge too old for such practical jokes. She also
believed that Madge should have more dignity and self-control. She loved
her very dearly, and she wished her to come to live with her as her
daughter after her own, daughter, Made