how a brave front, to keep up appearances; but she felt
helpless and weak, curiously confused by and unequal to dealing with
this masterful stranger--who yet, somehow did not seem like a stranger.
Precisely in this was the root of her confusion, of her inability to
deal with him.

"But hardly as you are," he commented, on her announcement she was ready.
"Let me help to put on your shoes and stockings for you first." And this
he said so gently and courteously, that Damaris' lips began to quiver,
very feminine and youthful shame at the indignity of her present plight
laying hold on her.

"I can't find them," she pitifully declared. "I have looked and looked,
but I can't find them anywhere. I left my things just here. Can anyone
have stolen them while I was out at the end of the Bar? It is so
mysterious and so dreadfully tiresome. I should have gone home long ago,
before the rain began, if I could have found them."

And with that, the whole little story--childish or idyllic as you
please--of sunshine and colour, of beguiling birds beguiling sea, of
sleep, and uneasy awakening when the cloud-bank rising westward devoured
the fair face of heaven, of mist and fruitless seeking, even some word of
the fear which forever sits behind and peeps over the shoulder of all
wonder and all beauty, got itself--not without eloquent passages--quickly
yet gravely told. For the young man appeared to derive considerable
pleasure from listening, from watching her and from questioning her
too--still, gently and courteously though closely, as if each detail were
of interest and of value.

"And now you know all about it, Captain Faircloth," Damaris said in
conclusion, essaying to laugh at her own discomfiture. "And I am very
tired, so if you will be kind enough to row me across the ferry, I shall
be grateful to you, and glad, please, to go home at once."

"By all means," he answered. "Only, you know, I can't very well let you
cut your feet to pieces on these cruel stones, so I am just going to
carry you up over the Bar"--

"No--no--I can perfectly well walk. I mean to walk--see," she cried.

And started courageously up the rough ascent, only to slip, after a few
paces, and to stagger. For as soon as she attempted to move, she felt
herself not only weak, but oddly faint and giddy. She lurched forward,
and to avoid falling instinctively clutched at her companion's
outstretched hand. Exactly what passed between the young man and young
girl i