ly do think Edna has taken a
fancy to the child, though even _I_ can't always judge of Edna's
feelings by her actions."

Miss Martha looked fixedly at the side of the house, her pen poised in
her hand. She was weighing the question as to whether it would be well
to mention to Selina Lane her niece's presence at Anemone Cottage. If
she spoke of her, it might lead in future to embarrassing questions; if
she did not speak of her, Selina was liable to learn of Sylvia from
some other source; for no way had yet been discovered of permanently
concealing anything from Miss Lane, and that spinster, so fond of
jumping at conclusions that she frequently overleaped them, would be
sure to decide that Miss Martha was ashamed of her niece.

To tell or not to tell! She was still balancing her pen and the
question when a firm tread crunched the gravel behind her, and turning
she beheld a man advancing to the steps.

He was dressed in outing flannels, and his cap was presumably in his
pocket. At least he had none on his head. Miss Lacey rose with a start
and hurried to the steps.

"Why, Mr. Dunham, I was never so surprised in my life!" she exclaimed.

He smiled. "I was told that you would look more kindly upon a surprise
party at ten in the morning than at ten at night," he answered.

His eyes were level with Miss Martha's as she stood two steps above him
on the piazza, and he pressed her hard, little, unresponsive hand. But
if her hand was hard her heart was not, and it was with much
appreciation of the visitor's attractive personality that she urged him
to take his choice of the piazza chairs.

"This is a great place," he remarked, as she fluttered back to her
table, and he dropped on the piazza rail. "I've never been on the
islands before,--only sailed past them."

"But how did you get here so early? Were you at the Island House all
night?"

"Not at all. When Mr. Johnson returned on Friday he found Judge Trent
and myself in possession. This morning I went out with Cap'n Lem to his
pound, so was ready for an early start over here; and it surely is a
great place."

Dunham looked off upon the rolling billows breaking in snow here and
there above unseen ledges.

"Your clothes are wet. You had a rough sail."

"In spots, yes; but it's rather sheltered between here and the Tide
Mill. You're looking well, Miss Lacey."

"Who wouldn't in such a place," she rejoined; "and just think, Mr.
Dunham, my niece is here."

"So I under