"That was fairly well done," laughed Ethel; "you are improving and in time may hope to deceive even me."
"Never," responded Winn, sarcastically; "you are too well skilled in the fine art of dissembling. You almost persuaded me to-day that you were really glad to see me, instead of anxious to find out all about Rockhaven and its fisher maids."
"That is unkind," replied Ethel, in a hurt tone, "and you know it. Didn't I write you a nice letter, and have I shown the least resentment at your failure to answer it? Come now, be nice and like your old dear self, you big bear. I don't care if you did fall in love with an island girl. You certainly would have been stupid not to if there was one worth it, and I respect you the more for protecting her. Your friend Nickerson wouldn't."
And Winn, mollified by this occult flattery, came near admitting—Mona and all the summer's illusion—for that was Winn Hardy's way. Only one thing saved her name from passing his lips,—the fact that no answer had come to his letter. He began to feel that none was likely to, and that the summer's idyl was destined to be but a memory like to the sound of church bells in his boyhood days.
Then, while his thoughts went back to the island and all it contained, he told the story of his sojourn there, of Jess and his fiddle, of the little church and its parson, the quarry and his men, of Mrs. Moore and Captain Roby and the fishermen who each day sailed away to return at night.
Only Mona was omitted.
And Ethel, listening, became entranced at his recital.
"Your stay there has done you good," she said, when it was ended, "and made a broader man of you. You are not the callow boy you were, and the heroism you have shown toward your poor aunt proves it. When she told me, the tears almost came to my eyes; and while I bow to the noble impulse you displayed, it was foolish after all. It would have been wiser to have kept the money in your own hands and taken care of her. She may be led again to make ducks and drakes of her money by another Weston. The world is full of them."
"It didn't occur to me then," answered Winn. "I did it on a sudden impulse, and now I think you are right."
And be it said parenthetically that this worldly yet sincere assertion of Ethel Sherman elevated her greatly in Winn's estimation.