eautiful and mysterious strangers, not daughters of Cape Cod
clergymen.

But now, thanks to Issy's mischievous hints, his feelings were in a
puzzled and uncomfortable state. He was astonished to find that he
did not relish the idea of Helen's being particularly interested in Ed
Raymond. He, himself, had not seen her as frequently of late, she having
been busy with her war work and he with his own interests. But that,
according to his view, was no reason why she should permit Raymond to
become friendly to the point of causing people to talk. He was not ready
to admit that he himself cared, in a sentimental way, for Helen, but
he resented any other fellow's daring to do so. And she should not
have permitted it, either. As a matter of fact, Alberto Miguel Carlos
Speranza, hitherto reigning undisputed king of hearts in South Harniss,
was for the first time in his imperial life feeling the pangs of
jealousy.

He stalked gloomily on to the post-office. Gertie Kendrick, on the
arm of Sam Thatcher, passed him and he did not even notice her. Gertie
whispered to Sam that he, Albert, was a big stuck-up nothing, but
she looked back over Sam's shoulder, nevertheless. Albert climbed the
post-office steps and walked over to the rack of letter boxes. The Snow
box contained little of interest to him, and he was turning away when he
heard his name spoken.

"Good evening, Mr. Speranza," said a feminine voice.

Albert turned again, to find Jane Kelsey and another young lady, a
stranger, standing beside him. Miss Kelsey was one of South Harniss's
summer residents. The Kelsey "cottage," which was larger by considerable
than the Snow house, was situated on the Bay Road, the most exclusive
section of the village. Once, and not so many years before, the Bay Road
was contemptuously referred to as "Poverty Lane" and dwellers along its
winding, weed-grown track vied with one another in shiftless shabbiness.
But now all shabbiness had disappeared and many-gabled "cottages"
proudly stood where the shanties of the Poverty Laners once humbly
leaned.

Albert had known Jane Kelsey for some time. They had met at one of the
hotel tea-dances during his second summer in South Harniss. He and she
were not intimate friends exactly, her mother saw to that, but they were
well acquainted. She was short and piquant, had a nose which freckled in
the Cape Cod sunshine, and she talked and laughed easily.

"Good evening, Mr. Speranza," she said, again. "You lo