ham," she said, her fingers closing more
tightly upon it.

He laughed and seized the case.

Her lips set and her eyes dilated. "I mean it!" she exclaimed. "Don't
touch it."

Her face had changed to intense seriousness, and under her flashing
gaze his laughter died.

"Just a peep," he said in surprise.

"No, no," cried Sylvia acutely.

He could see that her breath was coming fast, and Edna observed it
also, looking on at the little scene with a sense of perplexity and
disapproval.

Dunham dropped his hands, and there was a disarming break in the girl's
voice as she thanked him and ran into the house.

She gave Edna a look as she passed, and brief as it was there was an
appeal and a confiding in that look.

Dunham shrugged his shoulders. "What now, I wonder?" he said, as he
rejoined her.

"Sylvia doesn't seem to have outgrown a love of schoolgirl mysteries,"
returned Edna coolly.

In a few minutes the family were called to dinner, and Sylvia was again
the happiest of the company. The sparkle in her eyes seemed to have
permeated her voice as well. By comparison the hostess's manner seemed
unresponsive and preoccupied.

"What a pity you can't come over to the Tide Mill this afternoon,
Edna," said Sylvia. "We couldn't have a better breeze."

Edna gathered her straying thoughts. "I know it," she replied, "but the
bird in the hand is the only one worth anything here. I have my
carpenters now, so business must come before pleasure. See if you can't
bring back Thinkright or Judge Trent with you, to lend dignity to our
house party. You'd better get an early start so you won't have Miss
Lacey patrolling the shore to-night and looking for a sail."

Edna did not meet Sylvia's gaze as she spoke, and the latter gained an
impression of strangeness in her friend's manner. As they all strolled
away from the table and out of doors, Sylvia made a movement to link
her arm in Edna's. Was it a coincidence that the latter suddenly drew
away, saying, "I'm going to get my golf cape for you, Sylvia. It will
be very cool coming back."

"I have my sweater," replied the girl, her gay face sobering.

"Yes, but you'll like the golf cape, too, I'm sure, as the sun goes
down."

Sylvia thought she perceived a new note in Edna's tone, a courtesy, a
perfunctoriness, that chilled her. When did it commence? Her thoughts
flew back over the past twenty-four hours, and it recurred to her that
last evening Edna, for the first time, left h