cousin of ours--a Mr. Braithwaite. Are you very busy,
Benjamin?"

"Not busy at all--idle as you see me. Why?"

"Will you take me out for a little row in the dory? I haven't been out
for so long."

"Of course. Come--here's the dory--your namesake, you know. I had her
fresh painted last week. She's as clean as an eggshell."

The girl stepped daintily off the rocks into the little cream-coloured
skiff, and Benjamin untied the rope and pushed off.

"Where would you like to go, Mary Stella?"

"Oh, just upshore a little way--not far. And don't go out into very
deep water, please, it makes me feel frightened and dizzy."

Benjamin smiled and promised. He was rowing along with the easy grace
of one used to the oar. He had been born and brought up in sound of
the gulf's waves; its never-ceasing murmur had been his first lullaby.
He knew it and loved it in every mood, in every varying tint and
smile, in every change of wind and tide. There was no better skipper
alongshore than Benjamin Selby.

Mary Stella waved her hand gaily to the two men on the rocks. Benjamin
looked back darkly.

"Who is that young fellow?" he asked again. "Where does he belong?"

"He is the son of Father's sister--his favourite sister, although he
has never seen her since she married an American years ago and went to
live in the States. She made Frank come down here this summer and hunt
us up. He is splendid, I think. He is a New York lawyer and very
clever."

Benjamin made no response. He pulled in his oars and let the dory
float amid the ripples. The bottom of white sand, patterned over with
coloured pebbles, was clear and distinct through the dark-green water.
Mary Stella leaned over to watch the distorted reflection of her face
by the dory's side.

"Have you had pretty good luck this week, Benjamin? Father couldn't go
out much--he has been so busy with his hay, and Leon is such a poor
fisherman."

"We've had some of the best hauls of the summer this week. Some of the
Rustler boats caught six hundred to a line yesterday. We had four
hundred to the line in our boat."

Mary Stella began absently to dabble her slender brown hand in the
water. A silence fell between them, with which Benjamin was well
content, since it gave him a chance to feast his eyes on the beautiful
face before him.

He could not recall the time when he had not loved Mary Stella. It
seemed to him that she had always been a part of his inmost life. He
loved her with th