Thinkright deliberately studied Dunham's expression as the latter watched the young girl, whose indecision and trouble were obvious.
"Be game, Miss Sylvia, be game," suggested John. "Steamer leaves dock in half an hour sharp, as Judge Trent elects to have a late supper at Anemone Cottage rather than an early one in the shade of Mrs. Lem's pompadour."
"Then I'm going, am I, Thinkright?" asked Sylvia, her eyes appealing to him as she rose.
"Of course you're going," put in the judge authoritatively. "I've had no visit with you yet."
"All right," returned Sylvia, smiling faintly at her uncle; but she took Thinkright's arm.
"I'll meet you in half an hour," she said to the other men, and started toward the house, with her cousin captive.
"Get your thought right on the way back, little one," he said. "You know how. You have nothing to conceal from Edna, I suppose?"
Sylvia did not answer at once, and Thinkright, after a moment, turned and looked into her grave, downcast face.
She spoke, after the little silence, with a collected dignity which was very becoming. "I'm ready to give Edna an account of every action of mine beneath her roof."
"Very well, my child. I haven't a doubt of it. It's better for you to go back to-night. I'm sure you think so."