a small way. Mr.
Cosden came down here for the purpose of proposing to Merry."

"To Merry!" Marian cried. "That man had the audacity to think he could
marry my child! Well, upon my soul! Why, he never saw her more than two
or three times before he came to Bermuda! How could he possibly have
fallen in love--"

"In love!" Edith laughed. "Love? That's a real joke! Mr. Cosden has
never dealt in that commodity! I tell you, Marian, he just picks out the
thing he wants, and then he gets it--"

"He could never get _my_ daughter."

"But you just said you admired men who had confidence in themselves--"

"I didn't say I cared for men with such unmitigated nerve as that. The
idea!"

"You thought us well suited to each other."

"Certainly I did; that's an entirely different matter. You are just as
mercenary as he, and I think you would make a perfect team,--but Merry!
Ho, ho! The audacity of it!"

Sitting on the edge of her steamer chair Marian tapped the deck
excitedly with her toe and carefully adjusted an imaginary crease in her
skirt. Suddenly she turned again to her companion.

"So he came down to get Merry,--and proposed to you?"

"Yes; rather well manoeuvered, wasn't it? You see, don't you, that my
mercenary instincts saved you from an unpleasant maternal duty?"

"I bless you for it," Marian said heartily; "but you've refused him, so
that leaves him loose to begin over again. He's not safe yet."

"I wouldn't worry about that just now," Edith reassured her. "Mr. Cosden
has learned a few things since he has been under my instruction, and I
think he will be less precipitate."

"Why don't you continue the good work and polish him up for yourself?
You must have found some good points or you wouldn't have gone to all
this trouble."

"No, Marian; it's too big a contract. I once had hopes but they are
gone. The first thing I knew he'd have me packed up in spite of myself
and shipped off somewhere. I'm very disappointed, but I dare not take
the chance."

It was fortunate, if Miss Stevens was to unburden her heart to her
friend at all, that she acted so promptly, for after the headland of St.
George's and St. David's light-house faded away in the distance it
became apparent that the elements were not kindly disposed toward those
on board the "Arcadian." The air became oppressive in its sultriness,
and the clouds gathered ominously. Within an hour the calmness of the
sea was forgotten. The little party playing shuffl