"Oh dear me, Gwen, is he like that?"
"Well, he is above all things practical. I suppose one ought to be thankful he is, for remove his festoons of bank notes and what would he be?"
"You are a trifle practical yourself, my dear. You have an absolute talent for economics."
"Don't," groaned Gwen. "You will make me feel that I am too thoroughly fitted to be a poor man's wife to throw myself away on a millionaire. We have just had a long talk, and I see an ever increasing vista of engagements to walk. I have promised to show him the beauties of the island. I wonder if I could manage them all in one day. Now that I am free from the magnetism of his presence I am wondering at my readiness to offer myself as 'guide, philosopher and friend.' He carried my fish home for me."
"Then—"
"You think tinkers are not the only fish I have landed? At all events I find that goldfish are a trifle difficult to digest, and oh, they are so bony. I don't know how they would seem served up with diamond sauce. I might enjoy the sauce, and forget the fish. Anyhow, and seriously speaking, it is a great thing to have at last discovered the long desired millionaire. Did you observe his looks, his free step and his wild and woodland air? He out-islands the islanders."
"I saw him," answered Miss Elliott. "I did think him a trifle over-dressed for the occasion."
"Under-dressed you mean. Nothing short of coral clasps could hitch his sleeves up higher, and I am sure there is a full yard of throat exposed to sun and air. I was foolish enough to try being fanciful when I talked to him. I wish you could have seen his expression. To-morrow we go to Pebbly Beach and I shall talk steel rails to him all the way. I am afraid he will suggest carting away all the pebbles to fill in railroad beds, though it won't matter as it can't be done. I am bound he shall find me sympathetic, though I die in the attempt. I'm going out on the porch. Come along, dear. Why should you ever sit indoors?"
"As soon as I have finished this letter I'll come."
Gwen picked up a book and went out. The singing waves were rippling in over the reefs. The sandpipers added a plaintive note once in a while to the universal melody, and from the grove beyond the marsh song-sparrows and wrens piped in harmony. The farther island lay distinctly outlined now in the sun, and the haze had moved on to the mainland which it enveloped in a faint purple mist. The windows of a house on a distant island flamed out like a beacon light as the sun touched them. The sky was blue above, the sea a deeper blue beneath. Soon more vivid colors would stain the west, and would drop rose and violet and gold upon the waters.