r
colony,--but she explained that that did not mean she would marry him.
She announced this when the signs she knew made it seem necessary. She
announced it in what was for her a roundabout way, by remarking suddenly
that she did not intend to marry for several years.

This brought Latimer to his feet and called forth from him remarks so
eloquent that Helen found it very difficult to keep her own. She as
though she had been caught in an undertow and was being whirled out to
sea. When, at last, she had regained her breath, only because Latimer
had paused to catch his, she shook her head miserably.

"The trouble is," she complained, "there are so many think the same
thing!"

"What do they think?" demanded Latimer.

"That they want to marry me."

Checked but not discouraged, Latimer attacked in force.

"I can quite believe that," he agreed, "but there's this important
difference: no matter how much a man wants to marry you, he can't LOVE
you as I do!"

"That's ANOTHER thing they think," sighed Helen.

"I'm sorry to be so unoriginal," snapped Latimer.

"PLEASE don't!" pleaded Helen. "I don't mean to be unfeeling. I'm not
unfeeling. I'm only trying to be fair. If I don't seem to take it to
heart, it's because I know it does no good. I can see how miserable
a girl must be if she is loved by one man and can't make up her mind
whether or not she wants to marry him. But when there's so many she just
stops worrying; for she can't possibly marry them all."

"ALL!" exclaimed Latimer. "It is incredible that I have undervalued you,
but may I ask how many there are?"

"I don't know," sighed Helen miserably. "There seems to be something
about me that--"

"There is!" interrupted Latimer. "I've noticed it. You don't have to
tell me about it. I know that the Helen Page habit is a damned difficult
habit to break!"

It cannot be said that he made any violent effort to break it. At least,
not one that was obvious to Fair Harbor or to Helen.

One of their favorite drives was through the pine woods to the point on
which stood the lighthouse, and on one of these excursions they explored
a forgotten wood road and came out upon a cliff. The cliff overlooked
the sea, and below it was a jumble of rocks with which the waves played
hide and seek. On many afternoons and mornings they returned to this
place, and, while Latimer read to her, Helen would sit with her back
to a tree and toss pine-cones into the water. Sometimes the poets