e whole strength and fidelity of a naturally intense
nature. He hoped that she loved him, and he had no rival that he
feared. In secret he exalted and deified her as something almost too
holy for him to aspire to. She was his ideal of all that was beautiful
and good; he was jealously careful over all his words and thoughts and
actions that not one might make him more unworthy of her. In all the
hardship and toil of his life his love was as his guardian angel,
turning his feet from every dim and crooked byway; he trod in no path
where he would not have the girl he loved to follow. The roughest
labour was glorified if it lifted him a step nearer the altar of his
worship.

But today he felt faintly disturbed. In some strange, indefinable way
it seemed to him that Mary Stella was different from her usual self.
The impression was vague and evanescent--gone before he could decide
wherein the difference lay. He told himself that he was foolish, yet
the vexing, transient feeling continued to come and go.

Presently Mary Stella said it was time to go back. Benjamin was in no
hurry, but he never disputed her lightest inclination. He turned the
dory about and rowed shoreward.

Back on the rocks, Mosey Louis and Xavier, the French Canadians, were
looking through the spyglass by turns and making characteristic
comments on the fleet. Mr. Murray and Braithwaite were standing by the
skids, watching the dory.

"Who is that young fellow?" asked the latter. "What a splendid
physique he has! It's a pleasure to watch him rowing."

"That," said the older man, with a certain proprietary pride in his
tone, "is Benjamin Selby--the best mackerel fisherman on the island.
He's been high line all along the gulf shore for years. I don't know a
finer man every way you take him. Maybe you'll think I'm partial," he
continued with a smile. "You see, he and Mary Stella think a good deal
of each other. I expect to have Benjamin for a son-in-law some day if
all goes well."

Braithwaite's expression changed slightly. He walked over to the dory
and helped Mary Stella out of it while Benjamin made the painter fast.
When the latter turned, Mary Stella was walking across the rocks with
her cousin. Benjamin's blue eyes darkened, and he strode moodily over
to the boats.

"You weren't out this morning, Mr. Murray?"

"No, that hay had to be took in. Reckon I missed it--pretty good
catch, they tell me. Are they getting any now?"

"No. It's not likely the