hat, and presently he hid his face
against her hands. "Oh, Becky, Becky," she heard him whisper.

Then there was the Admiral's step in the hall and Archibald was on his
feet, staring in the fire when the little man came in.

"Any letters for Charles to mail?"

"No, Grandfather."

The Admiral limped away. Becky stood up. Cope turned from the fire.

"If it doesn't rain to-morrow, I'll show America to Olga of Petrograd."

They smiled at each other, and Becky held out her hand. He bent and
kissed it. "I shall sleep well to-night because of--to-morrow."

III

But when to-morrow came there was a telephone message for Becky that
Major Prime and his wife were in town. They had messages for her from
Huntersfield, and from King's Crest.

"And so our day is spoiled," said Archibald.

"We can come again," said the Admiral, "but we must be getting back to
Siasconset to-morrow. I wrote to Tristram. We'll have Prime and his wife
here for dinner to-night, and drive them out somewhere this afternoon. I
remember Mark Prime well. I played golf with him one season at Del
Monte. How did you happen to know him, Becky?"

Becky told of the Major's sojourn to King's Crest.

The Copes made separate plans for the afternoon. "If I can't have you to
myself, Becky," Cope complained, "I won't have you at all----"

Madge, sitting later next to Becky in the Admiral's big car, was lovely
in a great cape of pale wisteria, with a turban of the same color set
low on her burnt-gold hair.

"I have brought you wonderful news of Randy Paine," she said to Becky.
"He has sold his story, 'The Trumpeter Swan.' To one of the big
magazines. And they have asked for more. He is by way of being
rather--famous. He came on to New York the day after we arrived. They
had telegraphed for him. We wanted him to come up here with us, but he
wouldn't."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"He had some engagements, and after that----"

"He will never write another story like 'The Trumpeter Swan,'" said
Becky.

"Why not?"

"It--it doesn't seem as if he could---- It is--wonderful, Mrs.
Prime----"

"Well, Randy--is wonderful," said Madge.

A silence fell between them, and when Madge spoke again it was of the
Watermans. "We go to the Crossing to-morrow. I must see Flora before I
go West."

The blood ran up into Becky's heart. She wondered if George Dalton was
with the Watermans. But she did not dare ask.

So she asked about California instead. "You will live out the