uld not help but own to himself that she looked as fair
and pretty and quite as stylish as any young girl you would meet in a
day's travel in her neat navy-blue merino dress, with its white duck
vest and broad, white cuffs and sailor collar, and the white sailor hat,
with the white silk band about it to match. And nothing could have been
more dainty than her neat kid boots and gloves.

Langdon raised his hat to this fair young vision of loveliness with all
the gallantry he was capable of, and away they went in high spirits and
high glee, and with never a thought in Dorothy's heart of poor Jack
toiling at that moment in the book-bindery.

It was a delightful sail down the bay, and when they arrived at their
destination they found the island thronged with a merry group of
pleasure seekers.

The hours flew by on golden wings. Dusk gathered. Night soon drew her
sable curtains, and pinned them with a star.

They dined sumptuously at the Hotel Castleton, and then went back to the
picnic grounds, which were ablaze with light and color, resounding to
the merry strains of music, the babble of gay voices and joyous
laughter, and the sound of feet keeping step in the dance.

Never had Dorothy enjoyed herself so well. Harry Langdon was the prince
of escorts. He knew how to make himself agreeable and entertaining. He
whispered tender words into his companion's ears, held her little hand,
and conveyed to her in a thousand different ways that this was the
happiest day of his life, because she was by his side.

At length the hour drew near for the picknickers to leave the grounds,
for the boat had already steamed into the dock. In twenty minutes' time
she was to start back to the city.

"Have you had a pleasant time, Dorothy?" asked her companion, smiling
down into her pleased, flushed face.

"I have had the most pleasant hours of my life!" declared Dorothy. "It
has been like heaven here; I am sorry to go. And oh! how dark and drear
to-morrow will be in the bindery, after such a pleasant outing here."

"You need not return to the bindery to-morrow unless you wish,"
whispered Langdon, still holding the girl's little hand in his.

Dorothy's heart beat high. Was handsome Harry Langdon about to propose
to her? she wondered.

But no! the words she was waiting for did not fall from his lips,
although he had plenty of opportunity as they walked down the gayly
festooned path that led to the wharf.

"Perhaps he means to wait until