up something off the floor what she said was a cake o' mud
off my heel. Said she wouldn't have it," continued Mr. Boom, his voice
rising. "My own floor too. Swep' it up off the floor with a dustpan and
brush, and held it in front of me to look at."

Dick Tarrell gave a grunt which might mean anything--Mr. Boom took it
for sympathy.

"I called her old maid," he said with gusto; "'you're a fidgety old
maid,' I said. You should ha' seen her look. Do you know what I think,
Dick?"

"Not exactly," said Tarrell cautiously.

"I b'leeve she's that savage that she'd take the first man that asked
her," said the other triumphantly; "she's sitting up there at the door
of the cottage, all by herself."

Tarrell sighed.

"With not a soul to speak to," said Mr. Boom pointedly.

The other kicked at a small crab which was passing, and returned it to
its native element in sections.

"I'll walk up there with you if you're going that way," he said at
length.

"No, I'm just having a look round," said Mr. Boom, "but there's nothing
to hinder you going, Dick, if you've a mind to."

"There's no little thing you want, as I'm going there, I s'pose?"
suggested Tarrell. "It's awkward when you go there and say,
'Good-morning,' and the girl says, 'Good-morning,' and then you don't
say any more and she don't say any more. If there was anything you
wanted that I could help her look for, it 'ud make talk easier."

"Well--go for my baccy pouch," said Mr. Boom, after a minute's thought,
"it'll take you a long time to find that."

"Why?" inquired the other.

"'Cos I've got it here," said the unscrupulous Mr. Boom, producing it,
and placidly filling his pipe.

"You might spend--ah--the best part of an hour looking for that."

He turned away with a nod, and Tarrell, after looking about him in a
hesitating fashion to make sure that his movements were not attracting
the attention his conscience told him they deserved, set off in the
hang-dog fashion peculiar to nervous lovers up the road to the cottage.
Kate Boom was sitting at the door as her father had described, and, in
apparent unconsciousness of his approach, did not raise her eyes from
her book. "Good-morning," said Tarrell, in a husky voice.

Miss Boom returned the salutation, and, marking the place in her book
with her forefinger, looked over the hedge on the other side of the road
to the sea beyond.

"Your father has left his pouch behind, and being as I was coming this
way, aske