ever--not never again."

* * * * *

The second day after was that which had been set for Mitchell's yachting
party. They allowed a day to lapse between because a yachting party has to
begin early enough so that you can see to get on board. Mitchell wanted
his to begin early enough so that they could see the yacht too.

"A yacht, Miss Watkins," he said into the ear trumpet, "is a delight that
it takes daylight to delight in. If my words sound somewhat mixed, believe
me, it is the effect of what is to come casting its shadow before. I speak
with understanding and sympathy--you will know all later."

Aunt Mary smiled sweetly. Sometimes she thought that Mitchell was the
nicest of the three--times when she wasn't talking to Clover or Burnett.

Jack took his aunt out to drive on the afternoon of the intervening day
and bought her a blue suit with a red tape around one arm, and some
rubbersoled shoes, and a yachting cap and a mackintosh. There was
something touching in Aunt Mary's joyful confidence and anticipation--she
having never been cast loose from shore in all her life.

"When do you s'pose we'll get home?" she asked Jack.

"Oh, some time toward night," he replied.

She smiled with a trust as colossal as Trusts usually are.

"I'm sure I shall have a good time," she said. "I always liked to see
pictures of waves."

"You'll see the real things now, Aunt Mary," cried her nephew heartily. He
was not a bit malicious, possessing a stomach whose equilibrium could not
conceive any other anatomical condition.

Janice, however, had doubts, and on the morning of the next day her doubts
deepened. She looked from the window and shook her head.

"Feel a fly?" inquired Aunt Mary.

"No, I see some clouds," yelled her maid.

"I didn't ask you to speak loud," said the old lady. "I always hear what
you say. Always."

Janice went out of the room and voiced her views of the weather to the
proprietors of the expedition. The proprietors were having an uproarious
breakfast on ham and eggs--all but Mitchell, who sat somewhat aloof and
contented himself with an old and reliable breakfast food long known to
his race.

"Are you really going to take her up the Sound to-day?" the maid demanded
of the merry mob.

"I'm not," said Burnett; "it's the yacht that's going to take her. Pass
the syrup, Jack, like the jack you are."

"Doesn't she feel well?" Jack asked, passing the syrup as requested. "If
s