your pardon, Mr.
Paine. It is a pretty name, at all events."

"Thank you."

"I must have misunderstood Father. I was sure he said that boat building
was your business."

"No. He saw me overhauling the engine, and perhaps that gave him the
impression that I was a builder. I told him I was not, but no doubt he
forgot. I have no business, Miss Colton."

I think she was surprised. She glanced at me curiously and her lips
opened as if to ask another question. She did not ask it however, and,
except for a casual remark or two about the view and the blueness of
the water in the bay, she said nothing more. I rather expected she would
refer to her intention of calling on Mother, but she did not mention the
subject. I inferred that she had thought better of her whim.

On the other occasions when we met she merely bowed. "Big Jim" nodded
carelessly. Mrs. Colton, from her seat in the auto, nodded also, though
her majestic bow could scarcely be termed a nod. It was more like the
acknowledgment, by a queen in her chariot, of the applauding citizen
on the sidewalk. She saw me, and she deigned to let me know that I was
seen, that was all.

But when I inferred that her daughter had forgotten, or had decided not
to make the call at our house, I misjudged the young lady. I returned,
one afternoon, from a cruise up and down the bay in the Comfort, to find
our small establishment--the Rogers portion of it, at least--in a high
state of excitement. Lute and Dorinda were in the kitchen and before I
reached the back door, which was open, I heard their voices in animated
discussion.

"Why wouldn't I say it, Dorinda?" pleaded Lute. "You can't blame me
none. There I was, with my sleeves rolled up and just settin' in the
chair, restin' my arms a jiffy and thinkin' which window I'd wash next,
when there come that knock at the door. Thinks I, 'It's Asa Peters'
daughter's young-one peddlin' clams.' That's what come to my mind fust.
That idee popped right into my head, it did."

"Found plenty of room when it got there, I cal'late," snapped Dorinda.
"Must have felt lonesome."

"That's it! keep on pitchin' into me. I swan to man! sometimes I get so
discouraged and wore out and reckless--hello! here's Ros. You ask him
now! Ros, she's layin' into me because I didn't understand what--"

"Roscoe," broke in his wife, "I never was more mortified in all my born
days. He--"

"Let me tell you all about it, Ros. I went to the door--thinkin' 'twas
a