nt."

"About that time you'll be making love to your little brass bedstead,"
remarked Mrs. Thatcher.

Edith's face fell. "I forgot all about that!" she cried aghast. "You
don't think it will be as rough going back as it was coming down, do
you? Oh! I forgot all about that!"

"It's certain to be bad enough to make you feel 'very annoyed,'" Marian
confirmed maliciously.

"Let's go on deck," Ricky Stevens said with a sudden show of interest;
"it's so awfully stuffy down here!"

Edith gave him a glance of approval. "For once in your life, Richard
Stevens, you have a real idea. I can feel the boat beginning to roll
now."

"Nonsense!" Huntington laughed, "we're scarcely out of the harbor yet;
but the deck is much the better place; we are passing close to the shore
and this last view of the islands is beautiful. We shall have ample
opportunity to inspect the boat later on."

"I've seen all I want to," Edith asserted, as they started back to the
companion way. "It was silly of me to forget that awful experience
coming down. I am sure the boat is rolling, in spite of your denials."

"Then look," Huntington insisted, as they stepped out on the deck again.
"You could navigate this sea in a canoe."

"Well, anyway," she compromised, "I shall be much more comfortable in my
little steamer chair, so lead me to it."

Mrs. Thatcher, still affected by her last sight of Hamlen, was glad to
sit down beside her friend while the others walked up and down the
decks, watching the passing panorama of the shore, knowing that it would
last too short a time at best.

"Marian," Edith said suddenly, "I have a presentiment that I shall die
of seasickness on this trip home, and there is something I want to say
to you while I can."

"No one ever died of seasickness, child," Marian laughed; "but if you
have something serious on your conscience the sooner you get it off the
better."

"It's Mr. Cosden," Edith explained.

"I noticed that something had gone wrong in that quarter. Has he escaped
you, after all?"

"It is really too bad of you to take advantage of me when I'm so ill!"

"My poor Edith!" Marian said soothingly, "forgive me, dear; I forgot
your serious condition for the moment. Tell me about Mr. Cosden."

"He is impossible," the invalid announced. "I really thought there was
some hope for him until a few days ago, but he is so frightfully
commercial that he crocks."

"He--what?"

"It comes off on everything he touches. He