the situation had gained a piquancy which
Kenwick found extremely seductive. He was far too wedded to his career
of "free-lance,"--a title which he took no little pride in
appropriating,--to have regarded with equanimity that awkward
contingency which goes by the name of consequences, but he was fond of
playing with fire, as over self-confident people are apt to be. It must
also be admitted that he took a very real pleasure in the bright beauty
and alert intellect of the young student of life who carried her golden
head so high and free, and with so individual a grace.

That he could, if he would, gain an influence over this frankly
impressionable nature, he did not for a moment doubt. Indeed, he had
never doubted his ability to win the interest of any woman, and since
he had never been so ill-advised as to put his fortunes to the touch,
nothing had yet occurred to disturb his self-confidence.

To-day, as he sauntered beside May Beverly in the quiet green meadow, in
shadow for the moment, only because a cloud had floated across the
sun,--so recently, that the insects had not ceased to hum, and sweet
odours still told how herbs and flowers had been steeped in sunshine but
a moment since,--he experienced a relish of life such as had only
occasionally fallen to his share. And when, presently, the sun came out
in full force, inducing the four more taciturn strollers to retrace
their steps, Kenwick felt that blaze of light to be doubly inopportune.

A few minutes later the flotilla was again on its way, awnings spread,
and flags flying. A breeze had sprung up, and when they were free of the
Burano canals, they found the water delicately ruffled. It was the
sweetest, gayest little breeze, and in sheer exuberance of shallow
emotion, the tiny waves plashed about the prow.

May, who was sailing under the blue banner on this occasion, glanced
now and then across the water, at the figure of Nanni, rowing the
forward oar. She had not quite her usual vivacity, a fact which did not
escape the attention of Kenwick in the other boat, and one upon which he
was at liberty to put any interpretation he chose.

The tide was in their favour, and they were making such good speed that
the oarsmen petitioned for a detour among the canals of San Erasmus,
where are market-gardens and fields and hedges. It was here that Geof
had listened to the whistle of the blackbird only the other day, as his
boat lay moored to the bank, while he sketched t