will stay down for September;
but Hubert will go off island with me, next week, and start Mac and me on
our way to Helena."

"And may I ask my sister to call on you?"

"Please do. Mac's mother doesn't have time to make many calls; but I
should like to know your sister, and then I shall be sure to hear when
you are in Helena again."

"Perhaps you'll let me write to you, now and then," he suggested, with a
shyness that was new to him. In his past life, he had never met a woman
quite like Mrs. Holden and he was anxious to win her liking and to hold
it, once won.

"I wish you would," she said cordially. "But your train is waiting.
Ought you to get on board?"

He took a hurried leave of her. Then he turned to Mac.

"Good-bye, Mac."

"Good-bye," Mac answered cheerily. "Aren't you glad you ever knew me?"

"Yes, Mac," he replied sincerely, for he felt that his meeting with Mac
had been foreordained, that, child as he was, Mac had served his turn in
knotting together some of the broken strands of his life.

As the train slowly jogged away across the moorland he felt a sharp
regret while he watched the disappearing of the little grey village and
the tall white lighthouse beyond. He had enjoyed his solitary month
there; he had enjoyed Hope, and the sweet, womanly frankness with which
she had taken him quite on his own personal merits. Incense was good; it
was far better to be liked as Gifford Barrett than as the composer of the
_Alan Breck Overture_, however, and he had a vague consciousness that he
had never been more of a man than when he was walking and talking with
quiet Hope Holden.

The train rounded the curve at Kidd's Treasure, and Mr. Barrett looked
backward to catch one last glimpse of the sea. As he did so, he forgot
Hope, and went back to the memory of his last hour on the beach.
Strolling along the sand, that noon, with his eyes fixed on the ground,
he had caught sight of an approaching shadow and he looked up to see
Phebe standing before him.

"Mr. Barrett," she said abruptly; "I'm sorry I called you a coward."

He rallied from his surprise and raised his cap.

"Oh, that's all right," he said lightly.

"No; it wasn't right. I don't want to abuse people to their faces and
behind their backs, when they don't deserve it. That isn't my way."

"But you couldn't be expected to know."

"I ought to have known."

"How?"

Phebe's cheeks grew scarlet. In her contrition, she had walked straight
into the