ince you have confided your creed
to me, I'll tell you what my vision is,--but you mustn't laugh at it for
it means a great deal to me."

"I promise--cross my heart," Cosden replied.

"In this vision each one of us atoms, man or woman, has a distinct
individuality, and each atom is intended to express its own
individuality alone and in its own way unless two atoms become joined
together by laws of natural attraction. In that case these two continue
on their way together, each strengthened by the combination, and thus
enabled to express their joint individuality as neither could do alone.
But love must be the crucible, Mr Cosden. Common-sense won't merge them,
science won't do it. The two atoms can't be made into one without the
crucible."

They were almost at the "Princess" landing now, and Merry gave her full
attention to her duties as skipper. As the boatman took possession,
Cosden assisted her onto the landing and they walked slowly up the stone
steps. At the top she turned to him suddenly, the brightest of smiles
replacing her former seriousness. Cosden marveled at the rapidity with
which her mood changed.

"That's my vision, Mr. Cosden," she said simply; "don't think it too
foolish. I must have some guide just as you have your daily creed. I
haven't confidence in myself, but I do believe in my subject, and you
tell me that I have enthusiasm. Please let that atone."

"But that vision of yours--" Cosden demanded doubtfully. "You asked me
if all men regard marriage as I do; let me ask you if all women have
that vision, as you call it."

"I suppose they have. If not, why should they give up their
independence?"

"I thought all women wanted to marry--"

"That is where _you_ are not up-to-date, Mr. Cosden," she laughed.
"Perhaps the woman you--intend to get has no vision; if so, it will be
that much easier. But she must be poor, Mr. Cosden,--you really mustn't
take advantage of her!"

* * * * *

XVII

* * * * *

Huntington passed an uncomfortable half hour after watching Merry and
Cosden start off on their sailing-trip, and he was glad to have Edith
Stevens break in upon his unprofitable self-communion. Cosden had put
into words a fact which until then Huntington had stubbornly refused to
acknowledge: he had actually reached a point where he heartily
disapproved of his friend. Connie had said it, and the realization that
what he said w