yes
blue, while Mrs. Thatcher was a perfect brunette; and the approach of
the two women to the same subject was always from a different
standpoint. Yet they had been the closest of friends from school days.

Except with Marian, Edith, as a rule, dominated the situation at all
times. Now, however, she found herself absolutely side-tracked, while
her friend occupied the center of the stage in the interesting character
of past or present object of admiration from three perfectly good men.
Men were a hobby with Edith Stevens. Her brother feelingly remarked that
the only reason she never married was that no individual male possessed
the composite attributes she demanded. To be one of three women,
surrounded by five men, and not to be able to command the attention of
any one of them except her brother was nothing less than irony. She had
tried flirting with Thatcher years before, and had long since given him
up in despair; Hamlen was annexed by Marian before she had even a chance
to compete, and of the two remaining eligibles Huntington suddenly
confessed himself a part of the flotsam her friend had left behind in
her beblossomed path toward the altar.

"Take one more look at Mr. Cosden, Marian," she said maliciously, as the
little party walked slowly down the steps toward the yacht. "Perhaps he,
too, was an early admirer."

Mrs. Thatcher laughed. "No," she reassured her, "I'm sure he never
crossed my horizon until last night. I'll renounce all claims on him,
but don't you set your cap for Philip Hamlen; I have other plans for
him."

"Where is Mr. Hamlen?" Edith demanded. "Didn't you invite him?"

"No," Marian replied quickly. "It would be cruel not to give him time to
recover his balance after yesterday. Heigh ho!" she sighed. "I wonder
whether I'm glad or sorry that I found him here."

"I've been waiting for a report on that reunion," Edith said
suggestively. "I haven't forgotten the letters which we used to read
together years ago."

"Weren't they wonderful?" Marian exclaimed. Then she added, after a
pause, "I don't believe I realized until yesterday the depth of
suffering which a sensitive soul can reach."

* * * * *

VI

* * * * *

The sailing-party disembarked at the landing steps of the "Princess"
shortly after six o'clock, and were greeted by a tall young man whose
face was almost concealed by the broad brim of his hat, turned down as