t him like that," she suggested to Archibald Cope.

"Do you think he would let me?" eagerly.

After supper the two men smoked by the fire, and Becky sat between them
and watched the blaze. She heard very little of the conversation. Her
mind was in Albemarle. How far away it seemed! Just three nights ago she
had danced at the Merriweathers' ball, and George had held her hand as
she leaned over the balcony.

"If you can bring yourself back for a moment, Becky, to present
company," her grandfather was saying, "you can tell Mr. Cope whether you
will walk with us to-morrow to Tom Never's."

"I'd love it."

"Really?" Cope asked. "You are sure you won't be too tired?"

"Not in this air. I feel as if I could walk forever."

"How about a bit of a walk to-night--up to the bluff? Is it too late,
Admiral?"

"Not for you two. I'll finish my pipe, and read my papers."

The young people followed the line of the bluff until they came to an
open space which looked towards the east. To the left of them was the
ridge with a young moon hanging low above it, and straight ahead,
brighter than the moon, whitening the heavens, stretching out and out
until it reached the sailors in their ships, was the Sankaty light.

"I always come out to look at it before I go to bed," said Cope; "it is
such a _living_ thing, isn't it?"

The wind was rising and they could hear the sound of the sea. Becky
caught her breath. "On dark nights I like to think how it must look to
the ships beyond the shoals----"

"The sea is cruel," said Cope; "that's why I don't paint it."

"Oh, it isn't always cruel."

"When isn't it? Last year, with the submarines, it was--a monster. I saw
a picture once in a gallery, 'The Eternal Siren,' just the sea. And a
woman asked, 'Where's the Siren?'"

Becky laughed. "If you had sailor blood in you, you wouldn't feel that
way. Ask Grandfather."

"The Admiral is prejudiced. He loves--the siren----"

"He would tell you that the sea isn't a siren. It's a bold, blustering
lass like the Whistling Sally out there in the front yard. Man has tamed
her even if he hasn't quite mastered her."

"He will never master her. She will go on and on, after we are dead,
through the ages, wooing men to--destruction----"

Becky shivered. "I hate to think of things--after we are dead."

"Do you? I don't. I like to think way beyond the ages to the time when
there shall be no more sea----"

He pulled himself up abruptly. "I am talking r