mean to be friends again, will you let me row you across to Devil's Hood
Island this afternoon? You told me once that you wanted to go there."

Sara considered the proposition for a moment, then nodded consent.

"Yes, I'll come," she said, "I should like to."

Devil's Hood Island was a chip off the mainland which had managed to
keep its head above water when the gradually encroaching sea had stolen
yet another mile from the coast. Sandy dunes, patched here and there
with clumps of coarse, straggling rushes, sloped upward from the
rock-strewn shore to a big crag that crowned its further side--a curious
natural formation which had given the island its name.

It was shaped like a great overhanging hood, out of which, crudely
suggested by the configuration of the rock, peered a diabolical face,
weather-worn to the smoothness of polished marble.

April was still doing her best to please, with blue skies and soft
fragrant airs, when Garth gave a final push-off to the _Betsy Anne_, and
bent to his oars as she skimmed out over the top of the waves with her
nose towards Devil's Hood Island.

Sara, comfortably ensconced amid a nest of cushions in the stern of
the boat, pointed to a square-shaped basket of quite considerable
dimensions, tucked away beneath one of the seats.

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

Trent's eyes followed the direction of her glance.

"That? Oh, that's our tea. You didn't imagine I was going to starve
you, did you? I think we shall find that Mrs. Judson has provided all we
want."

Sara laughed across at him.

"What a thoughtful man you are!" she said gaily. "Fancy a hermit
remembering a woman's crucial need of tea."

"Don't credit me with too much self-effacement!" he grinned. "I
enjoyed the last occasion when you were my guest, so I'm repeating the
prescription."

"Still, even deducting for the selfish motive, you're progressing," she
answered. "I see you developing into quite an ornament to society in
course of time."

"God forbid!" he ejaculated piously.

Sara looked entertained.

"Apparently your ambitions don't lie in that direction?" she rallied
him.

"There is no question of such a catastrophe occurring. I've told you
that society--as such--and I have finished with each other."

His face clouded over, and for a while he sculled in silence, driving
the _Betsy Anne_ through the blue water with strong, steady strokes.

Sara was vividly conscious of the suggestion of supple st