t think
of anything else."

So Cary brought him over to tea one afternoon. Doris noted then that he
was extremely good-looking and very entertaining. Besides, he had a fine
tenor voice and they sang songs together.

Uncle Winthrop was troubled at first. Captain Hawthorne's enthusiasm for
his profession was so ardent that Mr. Adams was alarmed lest it might
turn Cary's thoughts seaward again. But he found presently that Cary's
enlisting had been that of a patriotic, high-spirited boy, and that he
had no real desire for the life.

What a summer it was! Betty was over often, Eudora was enchanted with
the Adams house, and there was a bevy of girls who brought their sewing
and spent the afternoon on the stoop. Sometimes Uncle Win came out and
read to them. There were several new English poets. A Lord Byron was
writing the cantos of a beautiful and stirring poem entitled "Childe
Harold" that abounded in fine descriptions. There were "The Lady ol the
Lake" and "Marmion," and there was a queer Scotchy poet by the name of
Burns, who had a dry wit--and few could master the tongue. A whole
harvest of delight was coming over from England.

There were so many curious and lovely places within a few hours sail or
drive. Captain Hawthorne had spent most of his life in Maryland, and
this scenery was new. They made up parties for the day, or Betty, Doris,
and Uncle Winthrop and the captain went in a quartette.

"I don't know," Uncle Win said one day with a grave shake of the head.
"Do you not think I am rather an old fellow to go careering round with
you young people?"

"But, you see, someone would have to go," explained Doris. "Young ladies
can't go out with a young man alone. It would have to be Aunt Elizabeth,
or Mrs. Chapman, and I would so much rather have you. It's nice to be
just by ourselves."

"The captain seems to like Betty very much."

"Indeed he does," answered Doris warmly.

Occasionally Cary would get off and join them. But he was trying hard to
catch up. He had gotten out of study habits, and some days he found it
quite irksome, for he was fond of pleasure, and it seemed to him that
Betty was extremely charming, and Doris quaint, and Eudora vivacious to
the point of wit.

One warm August afternoon he sat alone, having resolved to master a
knotty point. What were the others doing? he wondered.

There was a step, and he glanced up.

"Oh," nodding to Captain Hawthorne, "I was just envying you and all the
othe