er--took shape
and form--suddenly moved towards her across the wave-rippled sand.

"Leslie!" exclaimed Anne in amazement. "Whatever are you
doing--HERE--tonight?"

"If it comes to that, whatever are YOU doing here?" said Leslie, trying
to laugh. The effort was a failure. She looked very pale and tired;
but the love locks under her scarlet cap were curling about her face
and eyes like little sparkling rings of gold.

"I'm waiting for Gilbert--he's over at the Cove. I intended to stay at
the light, but Captain Jim is away."

"Well, _I_ came here because I wanted to walk--and walk--and WALK,"
said Leslie restlessly. "I couldn't on the rock shore--the tide was
too high and the rocks prisoned me. I had to come here--or I should
have gone mad, I think. I rowed myself over the channel in Captain
Jim's flat. I've been here for an hour. Come--come--let us walk. I
can't stand still. Oh, Anne!"

"Leslie, dearest, what is the trouble?" asked Anne, though she knew too
well already.

"I can't tell you--don't ask me. I wouldn't mind your knowing--I wish
you did know--but I can't tell you--I can't tell anyone. I've been
such a fool, Anne--and oh, it hurts so terribly to be a fool. There's
nothing so painful in the world."

She laughed bitterly. Anne slipped her arm around her.

"Leslie, is it that you have learned to care for Mr. Ford?"

Leslie turned herself about passionately.

"How did you know?" she cried. "Anne, how did you know? Oh, is it
written in my face for everyone to see? Is it as plain as that?"

"No, no. I--I can't tell you how I knew. It just came into my mind,
somehow. Leslie, don't look at me like that!"

"Do you despise me?" demanded Leslie in a fierce, low tone. "Do you
think I'm wicked--unwomanly? Or do you think I'm just plain fool?"

"I don't think you any of those things. Come, dear, let's just talk it
over sensibly, as we might talk over any other of the great crises of
life. You've been brooding over it and let yourself drift into a
morbid view of it. You know you have a little tendency to do that
about everything that goes wrong, and you promised me that you would
fight against it."

"But--oh, it's so--so shameful," murmured Leslie. "To love
him--unsought--and when I'm not free to love anybody."

"There's nothing shameful about it. But I'm very sorry that you have
learned to care for Owen, because, as things are, it will only make you
more unhappy."

"I didn't L