ailing well-spring
of cheerfulness and courage. Not a disheartening word escaped him, nor a
sign of weakening. And his efforts to enliven his companion were
persistent--and successful. Being of a hopeful and self-reliant nature
this task was not so very difficult.

At last, toward the middle of the afternoon, in rain and mist, they came
to the eastern end of their own beach. But all view was shut out. Both
the cottage and the point of land on which it stood were hidden in the
fog. As they tramped along this beach, on the hard wet sand, the wind
and rain from the open sea came strong against their faces.

"It will be good to get back," said Elinor.

"Yes, but I like this better," and Pats drew the rubber blanket a little
closer still. "Our life at the cottage is too confined; too cut and
dried, too conventional and ceremonious."

"Too much company?"

"No, just enough. But too much routine and sameness. Above all, it is
too laborious. The charm of this life is having no chores to be done. No
shaving; no floors to scrub or windows to clean."

"Poor boy! And you must work doubly hard when we first get back. To
begin with, you will have to eat your half of all the eggs that have
been laid."

"Not an egg! I swear it!"

"Let's see--four days. That will make about thirty-six eggs. You must
eat eighteen this afternoon."

Their heads were of necessity very close together, and as Pats with a
frown turned his face to look at her, she continued: "And to-morrow
being your birthday, you shall have a double allowance. Just think of
being thirty-one years old! Why, Patsy, it take one's breath away."

"Yes, it is a stupendous thought."

"How does it feel?"

"Well, I can still see and hear a little; and I am holding on to my
teeth. Of course, the lungs, liver, brain, and all the more perishable
organs have long since gone."

"Naturally."

"But the heart is still there, and thumping hard and strong for the
finest woman in the world."

"Well, the heart is everything, and you are a good boy--I mean a good
old man."

"Thanks."

"And as soon as we get to the cottage I shall--" She pressed his arm,
stopped suddenly, and listened. "Why, what was that?"

"What was what?"

"Out on the water, off the point there. I heard a noise like a
steamboat."

Both listened.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I certainly thought so."

Again they listened. Nothing was heard, however, except the lapping of
the waves along the beach.