father was interested in getting hold of a Russian issue of
railroad bonds, or something of the sort. Is Prince Koltsoff
concerned?"

"Your father has no business dealings with him. Dismiss that thought.
Railroad bonds--I believe he was looking into them. I don't know the
details, or rather do not recall them. I do remember, though, his
saying that he had relinquished the opportunity to the French with
great pleasure."

"Oh," said Anne, "I imagined his visit here was a mingling of business
with pleasure."

"I don't know what it is a mingling of, I 'm quite sure," said Mrs.
Wellington. She turned to go. "I 'm dining out to-night, at the
Cunningham-Jones'. I shouldn't have accepted, but you were to be at
Berger's with your theatre party. You won't mind, Sara?"

"Not at all, Mrs. Wellington, don't bother about me. I hope I 'm not
company."

Mrs. Wellington smiled. She was very partial to the young widow.

"The boys are at Ochre Point for the night. You might call up people
if you want company for dinner, Anne."

"To think," cried Anne, as her mother left the room, "how events have
shaped themselves for us! Of course we shan't dine at home; I 'll have
Emilia tell Mrs. Stetson after we have gone. Now, Sara, what can we do
exciting?" Her eyes flashed with animation as she gazed at her friend.
"Shall it be shop girl disguises with dinner on Thames Street, or what?"

"I know," cried Sara. "We 'll put on shirt-waist suits and plain hats,
muss our hair a bit, and take a trip on a sight-seeing barge."

"Lovely. Mc--Mr. Armitage can take us to the starting place at
Easton's Beach and then pick us up there when we get back. After
that--"

"Hoop-la," laughed Sara, and the two young women--nothing but school
girls now--fell into each other's arms, hugging joyously.

When Armitage appeared again at the _porte cochere_ a few minutes
before five o'clock, two very changed, but merry young women awaited
him. Anne flashed her eyes at Armitage.

"To Easton's Beach, McCall," she said sweetly.

Easton's Beach was at the height of the day's exodus of excursionists
to Providence, Fall River, Taunton and elsewhere, as Armitage drew
alongside the sun-baked board walk in front of the main bathing
pavilion. Trolley cars, which had rolled empty down the long hill by
the ocean side, were now ascending laden to the guards, and the ocean,
relieved of its bathers, whose suits of multifarious cuts and colors
had grievou