for several days that you liked me enough to
try it, but when it came right down to it I--well, I was just about
scared blue!"

Martie's happy laugh rang out. She laid her smooth fingers over his big
ones, on the wheel, for a second. "I don't know that I ever felt any
happier in my life!" the man presently declared. "We may not be
youngsters, but I don't know but what we can give them all cards and
spades when it comes to sure-enough, old-fashioned happiness!"

So it was settled, in a few embarrassed and clumsy phrases. Martie's
heart sang with joy and triumph. She really felt a wave of devotion to
the big, gentle man beside her; all the future was rose-coloured. She
had reached harbour at last.

There was time for little more talk before they were at the beach, and
the excitement of luncheon preparations were upon them. The bay, a
tidal bay perhaps a mile in circumference, was framed in a fine, sandy
shore: long, natural jetties of rock had been flung out far into the
softly rippling water. The tide was making, perhaps a dozen feet below
the fringe of shells and seaweed, cocoanuts and driftwood that marked
high-water.

In a group of great rocks the boxes and baskets were piled, and the
fire kindled. The wind blew a shower of fine sand across the faces of
the laughing men and women, the children screamed and shouted as they
flirted with the lazily running waves. Women, opening boxes of neatly
packed food, exclaimed with full mouths over every contribution but
their own.

"Martie, this spice cake--! Mine never looks like this. Oh, May, you
villain! You said you weren't going to bother with the lettuce
sandwiches; they look perfectly delicious! What's in these?--cream
cheese and pineapple--they look delicious! Look out for the eggs,
George!"

Salt sifted from a folded paper, white enamelled cups were set upon a
level surface of the rock, a quart glass jar held lump sugar. The smoke
of the fire shifted capriciously, reddening eyes, and bearing with it
the delicious odour of brewing coffee.

Bending over the cake she was cutting, Martie sensed that Cliff was
beside her. She dared not give him a betraying word, the others were
too close, but she sent him an upward glance. His answering glance was
so full of pride and excitement, Martie felt her soul flood with
content. Driving home, against the straight-falling spokes of the
setting sun, they could talk a little, shyly and inconsequently. A
first dew had fallen, b