am sorry for Marie-Louise!"

Myrna Bliss laughed softly, delightedly to herself--and then, with a
sudden little gasp, sat bolt upright in bed. The whole thing,
everything since yesterday afternoon had been inconceivably
preposterous--and she herself preposterous most of all! If her father
ever heard the truth of it, what a scene there would be!

She got out of bed impulsively, walked to the window, and leaned her
elbows on the sill, her brows gathered in a perplexed little frown.
Just what had happened anyway? She had decided ten minutes after they
had arrived in Bernay-sur-Mer that she would die of ennui if she stayed
there. They had started for a walk, she and her father, and, without
saying anything to him, she had turned back and taken it upon herself
to inform this fat, effervescent little hotel proprietor that they
would go on that afternoon. She had intended, during the walk, to tell
her father what she had done, and, in fact, had told him; and then on
her return after that--yes, that meeting on the bridge--she had
countermanded her orders, and not only countermanded them but had even
rented a cottage! Her father had seen nothing extraordinary in it,
which was natural enough--since he left all travelling arrangements to
her. Indeed, on the contrary, as Bernay-sur-Mer had seemed to appeal
to him, he had been rather taken with the idea--if perhaps a trifle
sceptical as to the success of the housekeeping plan. In a word, if
the discovery of what she believed to be suitable accommodations had
induced her to change her mind and stay in Bernay-sur-Mer, it was
perfectly satisfactory to him. The brows smoothed out. As far as her
father was concerned, that was all there was to it. She had been the
practical manager ever since her mother had died five years before.

The brows puckered up again. Her father would never give it a second
thought, he would never for an instant imagine there was any ulterior
motive for what she had done. How could he--when the real reason was
so utterly absurd, ridiculous and unheard of! Fancy! What would that
select and ultra-exclusive set in Paris say? What if it ever came to
the ears of New York! Myrna Bliss to bury herself alive in a little
Mediterranean village that was probably not even on the map, and all at
a glance from the eyes of a--fisherman! They wouldn't believe it. Who
would believe it! It was unimaginable!

Dainty little fingers reached up and drummed with