lly wished
himself back in Boston with nothing more serious than the east winds to
worry him.

But no disturbing element was apparent in his face as he stepped out
onto the piazza after his leisurely breakfast the following morning.
Glancing around, he discovered Cosden and Miss Stevens standing at the
further corner, watching the hustle of the departing guests.

"You're just in time to witness the great event of the day," she greeted
him as he joined them, pleased that she had Cosden and Huntington even
temporarily to herself. "One of the best things they do down here is to
arrange the sailings to New York at a time when one may see the boat off
without getting up at all hours of the night."

Cosden started to speak and then paused, looking at her narrowly to make
certain that by no possible construction could any answer of his be
twisted into an invitation to drive to St. George's, or to some other
point equally remote.

"Your remark shows that you and Mr. Huntington have much in common," he
observed at length.

"Ability to sleep is an evidence of a clear conscience," she asserted.

"Which explains my restless nights, and the necessity of making up my
quota at the wrong end," Huntington said.

"But you come from New England, Mr. Huntington," Edith expostulated.
"I've always heard a lot about the New England conscience."

"I'll wager you never heard anything good about it," Huntington smiled.

"Does it ever really keep any one from doing the things he wants to do?"
she asked mischievously.

"No," Huntington answered gravely; "it simply makes him very
uncomfortable while he's doing them."

"I thought your sleeplessness might be caused by anxiety lest that
precious nephew of yours forget to take the boat this morning," Cosden
remarked dryly.

Huntington was quietly amused. "How about you?" he asked.

"I'm here to throw him bodily on board at the first sign of any change
of plan."

"You speak as if you had a grudge against the boy," Edith said, looking
surprised.

"Not at all," Cosden demurred; "Billy is all right, but he covers too
much territory. Since he landed I haven't been able to put my foot on
the ground without stepping on him. His Alma Mater needs Billy more than
I do, and, as Monty says, we alumni must be loyal to our Dear Mother."

"His Alma Mater will have to do without him for a few days longer unless
he appears soon," Edith remarked calmly, pointing toward the dock. "The
tender has just